The Eleventh Hour
by ll301
Summary: It's a typical winter morning on the beat in Manhattan - until it's not. A bad call leaves one of our favorite partners forced to undertake the difficult and long-avoided task of confronting their past and their feelings.
1. One Of Those Mornings

It was one of those classic Manhattan winter mornings: cold, gray, slushy – the last day anyone wanted to go out. There was no noticeable decrease in the number of pedestrians on the streets, but this was one of those days where the stereotyped New Yorker grumpiness was palpable in the air. The news cycle was predicting a massive winter storm headed their way, which overzealous meteorologists had already dubbed _the_ blizzard of 2017. The mayor had opted to close the city's public schools for the day, which was no small feat in New York. Of course, the icy roads and freezing temperatures meant there was no rest for the city's emergency services. EMS was in high demand, the salt trucks were out in full force, and the cops were pulling extended tours.

That's why Jamie and Eddie, already well into the eleventh hour of their tour that had commenced at eight the previous night, were stopping for coffee instead of making their way back to the precinct.

"What is this, the fifth coffee run?" Jamie commented to his partner as they stood in line at their favorite coffee cart.

Eddie rolled her eyes. "Fourth."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, big difference."

"Shut up."

"No, it's not a bad thing! You're supporting local businesses. You're probably what's kept Stavros in business this long."

"Yeah, it's all me," she said sarcastically, gesturing to the line of at least ten people in front of them. "Besides, if I'm gonna put up with you for six more hours, I'm gonna need caffeine."

He nodded in agreement. "In that case, I should mix mine with Red Bull."

She swatted his arm. "Screw you."

His laugh was cut off by a call from the front of the line. "Next!" Eddie turned away from her partner, rolling her eyes as she approached the cart.

"Officer Janko, back again!" commented the genial coffee vendor. "They really working you hard out there!"

Jamie coughed to cover up a laugh as Eddie shot him a glare. "Yeah, well, riding with this one really takes it out of you," she responded.

The vendor laughed as he prepared the two officers' usual orders.

* * *

The partners were back in the patrol car with the heater blowing in full force. Jamie grinned as Eddie sipped her coffee. "Wanna know what I don't get?"

She cut him a look. "Do I?"

He continued unperturbed. "We've been on tour for almost twelve hours, you're on your fourth coffee and somehow you haven't taken a single bathroom break."

She snorted. "Yeah, I have the metabolism of a – what did we call it?"

"A D-1 football-playing frat boy. Still true, by the way."

Eddie grimaced. "Lovely. Besides, I think my pee is frozen inside of me."

Jamie wrinkled his nose. "Too far, Janko."

She laughed. " _You're_ the one who brought it up."

"Which I now regret."

Her laughter was interrupted by the simultaneous crackle of their radios. Jamie turned up the volume on his as Eddie leaned over to listen.

 _"_ _All units be advised, we have a 10-30 at the corner of 8_ _th_ _Street and Broadway. Shots fired, reports of two armed perps at this location. Requesting additional units to respond."_

Jamie switched on the radio. "12-David responding to 10-30."

Eddie wrinkled her nose at him. "Who the hell robs a bank at seven o'clock in the morning in a _snowstorm_?"

Jamie shrugged. "Looks like we're about to find out." He switched on the sirens and pulled out of the spot where they'd parked.

* * *

As they approached the location given out by dispatch, it was clear that something was going on. Another RMP from their precinct was double-parked outside the bank, but there was no sign of the officers it belonged to. Jamie parked alongside the other car and the partners stepped out of the RMP cautiously, drawing their guns as they did so.

"Reagan! Janko!" They heard a call from nearby and whipped around. A rookie officer from the twelfth, Laura Martinez, jogged over to them.

Jamie met her on the sidewalk. "Martinez, what's going on? Where's Patterson?"

Martinez caught her breath. "I got one in cuffs inside. Mike took off after the other one – went that way," she answered, pointing down the street behind Jamie.

"Dispatch said there were shots fired. Anyone hit?" Eddie asked, approaching from behind Jamie to join the conversation.

Martinez nodded. "Yeah, this guy inside got trigger-happy and fired at the customers. He didn't hit anyone, but I got him in the shoulder. Bus is on the way but I don't think he's likely."

"Okay. I'm gonna go find Patterson, where'd they go?"

The rookie pointed back down Broadway. "Perp was a male white, about 6'2, jeans and a white t-shirt." Eddie nodded and took off in that direction.

Jamie was left standing on the sidewalk with Martinez. "Nice work, rookie."

Martinez laughed shakily. "Thanks."

Jamie furrowed his brow. "This your first shoot?"

The rookie nodded. Jamie clapped her on the shoulder. "Good work. I'll go deal with the guy inside, you take a breather and then call for backup and start talking to witnesses."

He left Martinez standing outside and entered the bank, where he could see a young man unconscious in handcuffs on the floor, bleeding from a gunshot wound. There were only a few customers inside – a testament to the crappy weather, he guessed. He scanned the room and then approached the perp on the floor, squatting next to him. He was relieved to feel a strong pulse on the guy's neck, and to see that the wound wasn't bleeding much – the guy had probably passed out from the pain. The day of Eddie's first kill popped into his mind, and he was relieved that Martinez wouldn't be having the same experience today.

As Jamie knelt beside the unconscious perp, he heard three loud pops sound from outside. His head snapped up. "Martinez?"

There was no response from the rookie. Jamie ran back out of the bank to see her sprinting down the street to the source of the noise. It didn't even cross his mind that he should wait for backup, that he shouldn't leave the perp alone at the scene; all he could think of was getting to his partner. As he followed, they heard another two shots. Jamie's heart dropped. _Five shots. Probably fired by two different guns. One perp. Patterson. And Eddie._ He ran faster than he knew he could – so fast, in fact, that he almost collided with Martinez when she stopped short.

He stopped and looked down the alleyway they'd come across. A man in a white t-shirt and jeans lay on the ground, bleeding from gunshot wounds to the head and chest. His eyes were open – he was clearly dead. Mike Patterson was supporting himself against the wall, grimacing in pain as he spoke into his radio. Jamie whipped his head around. "Eddie?"

Patterson looked up at him. "Reagan – "

"Where the hell is she, man? Where's my partner?"

"Jamie?" He heard her voice but he didn't see her.

"Eddie? What – "

"Over here." He heard her again, her voice coming from behind a Dumpster overflowing with restaurant garbage. He ran around the Dumpster, relieved.

"Jesus, Janko, what – " He stopped short. She was propped in a seated position against the wall. Her face was paper-white, and she held a hand against her stomach. "Eddie?"

Her face was contorted in pain. "He just – came out of nowhere."

Jamie whirled around to face Martinez. "Call a bus!"

The rookie was almost as pale as Eddie as she spoke into her radio. Jamie knew what she was saying – " _two officers shot, 10-13, one perp under_ " – but all he processed was her mouth moving. The only thing he could hear was Eddie's breath, gasping and labored.

 _He hears gunfire and ducks for cover behind the concrete wall. He looks for his partner beside him, but he's not there. No, his partner is lying on the ground, out in the line of fire._ Why don't you move, Vinny? You're a sitting duck out there. _Maybe he can't move. Maybe he's hit. He has to get to him. He pulls out his gun and blindly fires, up to the rooftop where the shots are coming from. A figure in red ducks away from the edge._ Probably shouldn't go out there, there could be more of them. No, you know what, screw them. Vinny's out there. _He grabs his partner by the arms and somehow, by some miracle, pulls him back to cover. He's relieved for a split second before he hears Vinny's labored breathing. He's been shot in the neck._ There's no way he's gonna make it. Call a bus, call a 10-13, I need backup. He's dying. _He's talking, words are just spilling out of his mouth not making sense, "Hey, you're gonna be okay. Hey, look at me, Vinny. You're okay, all right? Hey, don't go anywhere, okay? Stay right here with me, okay? Fight! Come on, fight!"_

 _Vinny's smiling. His face is all bloody, he's gasping for breath, and he's smiling._ No. _"Hey, Vinny, come on! Hey, stop smiling, look at me, man. Come on, look at me."_

 _"_ _It's okay. It's okay, Reagan. I told you."_

What the hell is he talking about?

 _"_ _I told you this is the end."_

 _"_ _What?"_

 _"_ _It's the end. It's okay."_

It's not okay. Nothing about this is okay.

 _Vinny's pained breathing is a horrible sound, but when it stops Jamie would give anything to hear it again. For the rest of the week he hears that breathing, until the wake when the sight of his partner's lifeless body forces into him the truth that it's really stopped. He hasn't heard it since._

Jamie's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He dropped to his knees in front of Eddie and pressed his hands over hers on her stomach. She winced and her face contorted further. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Eddie."

Her breath came in gasps. There was a lot of blood – too much for one gunshot wound, Jamie thought. "Eddie, where else you hit?"

She groaned at the pressure he was applying to her abdomen. "Shoulder, I think."

Jamie drew back her uniform jacket. Sure enough, there was another bloody wound just above her collarbone. "Okay. Okay, just sit tight. You're okay."

She gasped out a laugh. "Not like I'm going anywhere."

He knew he should smile, laugh, give her something so she wasn't so scared, but all he could think about was her labored breathing. "Any word on that bus?"

He was faintly aware of Martinez in his peripheral vision, squatting beside Patterson and talking to him. "Two minutes out," she called over to him.

"Okay." He looked down at Eddie. There were tears in her eyes, and he knew it wasn't just from the pain. "Hey, hear that, Janko? Two minutes. Think you can put up with me for that much longer?" It was killing him to joke right now, but he didn't think he could handle waiting in the hospital knowing that she had been scared.

"I'll try." Her voice was slurred and her eyelids were heavy.

"No, Eddie, you gotta stay awake. Eyes open, Eddie. You hear me?" He could feel the tears building in the back of his throat and prayed that she couldn't tell. He knew that she could, though. Seeing through his bullshit was a talent of hers. At least, normally it was – now she had other things to worry about.

She forced her eyes open and they met his. "Jamie –"

He was abruptly forced aside by something. He looked around and realized it was a team of paramedics, now surrounding his partner on the ground, lifting her onto a gurney and fitting her with all kinds of tubes and wires. He squatted there on the ground, watching in shock as Eddie was lifted into the back of an ambulance.

As the paramedics jumped in with her, one of them turned around. "You coming?"

Jamie was frozen, unable to move even to answer. After a moment, the medic waved him off. As the ambulance doors swung shut, Jamie realized he should have gone with them. But by the time he found the ability to stand and shout, "Wait!" the bus had already switched on its sirens and peeled away. Jamie looked around in shock. He was left in the alley with Martinez and the dead perp – somehow in his panic he'd missed Patterson being taken away in a bus. As the sound of the ambulances faded, he heard other sirens approaching. Other cops from the precinct, probably, rolling up to the 10-13. He stood up shakily. Martinez looked shell-shocked, but walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. Somewhere it registered within him that he must look pretty damn bad if the rookie who'd just fired her gun for the first time was comforting _him_.

"Want to head to the hospital?"

He knew what they were supposed to do – stay on the scene, talk to CSU and give their statements. He knew he'd catch a rip for taking off, and probably also for letting the rookie leave the scene. But he couldn't make himself care. He nodded and followed Martinez to the other end of the alley. Clearly, she knew they were supposed to stay on scene, but was choosing to duck the other cops and play dumb. A part of him appreciated that. He followed the rookie down the block and around the corner to where the two patrol cars were parked.

Martinez suddenly cursed. "Reagan, you got your keys? Mike has ours on him."

Without thinking, Jamie dug the keys to the patrol car out of his pocket and handed them to her. She clicked to unlock the car and Jamie went around to the passenger side – he couldn't help but think _Eddie's side_ – and got in. As he lowered himself into the seat, he saw Eddie's half-empty coffee cup in the cup holder. As Martinez started the car, switched on the sirens and peeled away from the curb, all he could focus on was that damn coffee cup.

* * *

A/N: Hello! I'm back with a longer story this time, this one is probably going to be at least five or six chapters. I've had two chapters prewritten for about two weeks and have been really dragging on writing the rest, so I'm hoping that posting this one will get me back into the swing of it! (That may be a really bad idea, but worth a shot.) Sorry for the overly angsty summary, I had a lot of trouble not making it sassy (Jamie had better get it together in Season 8!)

A few notes on the story: Since the 12th Precinct isn't a real precinct in NYC, I have no idea where it's supposed to be, but I feel like they end up in Washington Square Park a lot so I just made the bank robbery happen near there.

Also this may or may not be highly irresponsible police work, but I took some liberties here to make the story get where I wanted it to go.

I hope you all enjoy, if you do (or if you don't) please drop a review! Constructive criticism is always appreciated!


	2. Keep Breathing

Danny Reagan was one of about four cops in the city not working that day. Linda wasn't so lucky; the ER needed all the hands they could get. So Danny planned to use the rare free day to spend time with his sons, who were off from school due to the weather. They were playing poker in the living room, gambling for pennies and faux-grumbling about the shoveling job that awaited them as soon as the snow hit. The local news played on mute in the background, showing clips of bundled-up pedestrians and fleets of snowplows. Suddenly the repetitive cycle flashed over to another screen, showing a blonde reporter in a heavy coat standing in the street, with the words "Breaking News" scrolling across the bottom. Danny looked up curiously and reached for the remote to turn up the volume.

 _"—_ _reports of shots fired during a robbery at United Bank on the corner of Broadway and 8_ _th_ _Street. One man, who witnesses say is one of the robbers, sustained gunshot wounds and is now en route to St. Benjamin's Hospital. Another alleged robber is still at large with officers from NYPD's twelfth precinct on the scene."_

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Who the hell robs a bank at eight o'clock in the morning in a _snowstorm_?"

"Yeah, really. They should still be sleeping," Jack commented sarcastically, still annoyed that the call from the city hadn't come in until they'd already gotten up for school.

Sean laughed. "Ask Uncle Jamie. That's his turf, isn't it?"

Danny nodded contemplatively. "It is." He moved closer to the screen, looking at the patrol cars lined up behind the reporter. "I don't see his RMP, though. He may not be there." In a way, Danny hoped he wasn't. Despite Jamie's seven years on the job, which should have given him ample time to get used to the idea, it was still hard for Danny to reconcile himself to his little brother shooting and being shot at.

Jack picked up his cards. "We gonna play?"

Danny turned back to the table. "You mean, am I gonna kick both your asses?"

The boys rolled their eyes in tandem. As they continued to pass the cards around, Danny's phone vibrated from where it was placed on the table. He looked at the screen. _Maria Baez._ Danny groaned as he picked up.

"Baez, it's my one day off. I'm playing poker with my kids. What – "

He was cut off by Baez's voice. "Danny."

He was instantly on edge. "What? What happened?"

She was trying to keep her voice level, but he could hear alarm in it. "Did you hear about the bank robbery in – "

"Yeah, United Bank near the park, what about it?"

"Your brother and his partner responded. They were the second unit on scene, after another unit from the twelfth."

Danny's heart sank, but he forced himself to keep his voice casual. "So?"

Baez sighed. "One of the perps fled the scene. According to witnesses, two of the officers went after him, and then the other two followed when shots were fired. Then about five minutes later one of the officers called in a 10-13 from the scene. Two officers shot."

Danny's eyes widened. "Who?"

"They don't know yet. The other two officers are MIA – not responding to radio calls, no one can find them."

"They can't _find_ them?"

"They think maybe they left the scene. Jamie's radio car is gone."

Danny cursed. He saw his sons looking at him with alarm in their eyes and forced his face into some semblance of a neutral expression. "Maybe – maybe he followed them to the hospital. Wouldn't be the first time he left a scene without authorization."

"Yeah, could be." He could tell Baez didn't think so, but he appreciated her effort. His mind was racing. Sure, there'd been three other officers on the scene with his brother. Jamie might not have gotten shot. But he had a sinking feeling in his gut that he hadn't felt in years – since the night that his phone had rang as he slept, only to pick up and hear his father tell him that his brother had died in a drug bust gone bad.

"I'm gonna go to the hospital, see what I can find out." Danny hung up the phone and saw his own fear mirrored in his sons' eyes. He sighed before he began to explain what was going on.

* * *

As soon as Frank Reagan saw his assistant enter the room during his meeting with the police union president, he knew something was wrong. This meeting was the latest in a series of knock-down-drag-outs over medical benefits for probationary officers, and the commissioner had insisted on not being disturbed. Besides, he and Baker had been working together long enough that he could read in her face when there was bad news. The union president turned around as he saw Frank's attention shift behind him.

The commissioner's voice betrayed nothing. He looked at the union president impassively. "Give us a minute."

The younger man nodded, his ex-cop instincts telling him that this was serious. He got up and swiftly exited the office.

Frank stood up from his desk. "There's an officer down." It wasn't a question.

Baker bit her lip. "Two, sir." But he could tell there was something else.

"Who is it?" He knew what her answer was going to be, but he had to ask.

"They don't know yet, sir." That wasn't the answer he'd expected. "The shooting happened inside the confines of the twelfth precinct. Officers Reagan and Janko, along with another team, responded. There were two officers shot. They don't know who. The other two…seem to have left the scene without authorization." _There it is._ The commissioner's heart dropped, but his face remained impassive.

"Which hospital?"

"St. Benjamin's, sir. Your detail is ready." He knew Baker could see past his neutral expression. She'd been around him long enough that she could read him better than most. He sometimes resented this when he wanted to maintain his stoic exterior, but it was admittedly helpful in a crisis. He was grateful for it as he strode down the hallway to his personal elevator.

* * *

Since leaving the scene, everything had been a blur to Jamie. Martinez had sped through the streets at a speed that a rookie definitely shouldn't have been driving, though reprimanding her for it was the last thing on his mind. At some point, they'd arrived at a hospital – which one, he wasn't even sure; they all looked the same to him. For some reason his hands were wrapped around Eddie's half-finished coffee as he sat, stunned, in a hard plastic chair in the emergency waiting area. Distantly, he realized that the cup was flecked with blood – _why is that? Eddie didn't bring this to the scene with her._ His stomach lurched when he realized that it was Eddie's blood from his own hands that was staining the cardboard. He placed the cup on the table beside him and rested his head in his hands, taking deep breaths to try to quell the nausea that had suddenly swept over him. As he did so, though, all he could hear was Eddie gasping for breath, though he hadn't seen her since they arrived in the ER. He felt panic creeping up on him.

Oblivious to the level of his inner turmoil, Martinez took the seat next to him. He lifted his head and looked over at her.

"I talked to a doctor. She said they took both of them to surgery. They'll come out and update us." Her voice was surprisingly steady – it reminded him of Eddie during their first tour together, when an officer had been shot in front of them. Of course, that officer had later died in the hospital. Jamie's heart sank. Somehow, he forced himself to pretend he had a handle on the situation.

"Does Patterson have family? They should be here." _Eddie didn't have family. He was her emergency contact._

The rookie nodded. "Yeah, I called his wife. She's on her way." They lapsed back into silence. He almost resented her for being so calm; if she'd been panicked he could have had something else to focus on other than the mental image of his partner bleeding out in the street.

Over the next fifteen minutes, every time a doctor walked by, Jamie was sure that they were about to come drop the bomb: _we did everything we could. She lost too much blood. We're sorry for your loss._ But the activity of the emergency room continued, leaving Jamie on the outside of the action. Mike Patterson's wife had arrived, and Martinez had gone with her to talk to a doctor. So when Danny Reagan sprinted through the emergency room doors, Jamie was sitting alone.

* * *

A/N: So this is not the most action-packed chapter, sorry! But I ended up cutting chapter 2 in half because it was really long, so the next part should be up in the next couple of days. I've never really written for Danny or Frank before, so please let me know if you think I kept them decently in character! Thanks for reading!


	3. Fears Allayed

Jamie didn't notice his brother's presence at first. He was staring straight into the rush of the emergency room, but sightlessly, with his eyes fixed on the double doors leading to the surgical floor. The memory of Eddie's heavy breathing still lingered in his ears, so when Danny called his name, he didn't process it until he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He snapped up his head.

"What the _hell_ , kid?"

Jamie stared blankly at his brother, not comprehending his presence, let alone the look of alarm on his face. "What?"

Danny scoffed. "You left the scene of a shooting and didn't radio in! The other units rolled up on a ghost town! When in the hell are you gonna stop running off like this?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jamie pieced together Danny's presence, the expression on his face and the reproach in his voice, and the hand that still lingered on his shoulder. "You thought it was me." His tone was flat; he wasn't asking a question so much as stating a fact.

Danny furrowed his brow. "We didn't know _who_ the hell it was! All we knew is two officers out of the four were shot, and that rookie wasn't one of them. So then I thought, it _had_ to have been you, because you wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the scene like that without authorization – "

Jamie cut him off, exasperated. "It wasn't me. It was Patterson and Janko. You happy?" His tone was resigned.

Danny's expression shifted and he drew back his hand from Jamie's shoulder. "Janko? She's one of the ones down?" His voice was softer now, and laced with some other emotion – regret? Sympathy? Jamie wasn't sure.

Jamie broke their eye contact and stared at a spot on the floor. "You do the math." His tone was derisive at first, but soon shifted. "She took two shots, lost a lot of blood. She's in with the doctors now." He fought to keep his voice from breaking on the words.

Danny bit his lip and eased himself into the seat beside his brother. "Janko's tough, kid. She'll be okay."

Jamie snorted. "How the hell can you say that?"

Danny shrugged. "I can't, I guess. Just don't write her off. Not unless you have to."

Jamie looked up and met his brother's eyes. "There was a lot of blood, Danny." His control over his voice faltered, but he soon regained it. "I don't see how there was even any blood still in her."

Danny shifted his gaze away, clearly at a loss for words. He shook his head imperceptibly. "She'll be okay."

Jamie shook his head and they lapsed into silence. As the activity of the emergency room swirled around them, the brothers sat, eyes tracking each doctor who came near but never approached the two of them directly. They didn't notice the doors to the ambulance bay swing open until a call of "Ten-hut!" rang through the room. The brothers stood mechanically and saluted as the commissioner strode into the waiting area.

He was flanked by his detail of several somber detectives, as well as by Baker, who was the first to notice the brothers standing to the side. They watched as she nudged his arm and indicated with her chin where they stood, and his eyes tracked over to his sons. For the police commissioner to sigh in relief would have been inappropriate for the situation, but Baker noticed a barely perceptible relaxation of his posture at the sight of Jamie seemingly unscathed.

Jamie dropped his salute even before the command came to do so, and as his father approached he fixed his eyes on the floor. The commissioner stopped beside Danny and nodded at him, reading the look of concern in the detective's eyes. "Officer Reagan." His tone was professional, but careful. He told himself it was how he would address any officer in this situation.

Jamie looked up, but still didn't meet his father's eyes. He nodded softly. "Sir?" Despite his attempts to keep control, his voice cracked on the syllable.

Frank kept his voice measured. "You left the scene of a shooting without notifying your command." On the one hand, he felt for Jamie, knowing the memories that this incident must have brought up for him, but his fatherly concern and relief combined with his professional duty to rebuke won out.

Jamie didn't even flinch. "I did."

The commissioner's tone grew sharper. "You left a violent criminal alone at a crime scene, hijacked a probationary officer to drive you here, and failed to notify _anyone_ of your whereabouts. Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

Even in his altered mental state Jamie could detect the fear that laced his father's words. He finally looked over to make eye contact. "I'm sorry."

They both knew that rebuking an officer like this was completely below the Commissioner's paygrade; this was the closest to a father-son interaction that they could have while in uniform and surrounded by people. Frank nodded at his son, pursing his lips. He flickered a glance down towards Jamie's hands where they hung at his sides. "I'm going to speak to a doctor. You should get cleaned up."

Jamie looked down at his hands as his father strode away. His stomach lurched as he noticed what his father must have seen: his palms were flecked with dried blood, and there was more crusted on his knuckles and under his nails, as well as staining the sleeves of his jacket. He looked up at Danny with panic rising in his eyes.

Danny nodded at him. "Go, take a breather, get cleaned up. If the doc comes out I'll come find you."

Jamie swallowed hard and exhaled. "Thanks."

Danny smiled tightly. "She'll be okay." He felt like the biggest kind of fraud repeating this over and over when they both knew just how not-okay it could turn out to be, but he didn't know what else to say. He was hit with a wave of dread as his brother thanked him again and walked away.

* * *

Between his four children, many years on the job and tenure as commissioner, Frank Reagan had spent a hell of a lot of time in hospitals. Some of that time had been as a patient, but the overwhelming majority had been spent in the waiting room. Somehow, though, the waiting never got easier, even as he rose through the ranks and gained the ability to pull strings for information. Today, the fact that none of his immediate family lay on the operating table was not much comfort. Dealing with injured officers was always difficult, even without factoring in his worry for his son. He forced the memories of Jamie's face at Vinny Cruz's funeral out of his mind as he approached the nurses' station.

The charge nurse was speaking into the phone, and held up a finger when she noticed his approach, signaling to wait. He smiled tightly and leaned against the counter, surveying the emergency room. A tap on his shoulder startled him out of his reverie. "Commissioner!"

The voice came from Dr. Alan Matthews, the long-running chief of emergency medicine at the hospital and, consequently, a longtime acquaintance of the commissioner's. The two had never gelled, as Frank had always found the doctor's constant joviality off-putting in times of stress, but at the moment he was intensely grateful to see the familiar face. He forced a smile onto his face as the doctor shook his hand. "It's been a while, Frank! What brings you here today?" The man infused a degree of concern into his tone. "Is it your father? I spoke to his cardiologist the other day and she said he's been doing great! What happened?"

Frank fought to keep up the smile. "No, I'm here as the commissioner today. Two of my officers are down."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

The commissioner nodded. "It's officers Janko and Patterson. Actually, doctor, I was hoping – "

The doctor grabbed a tablet off of the counter beside them. "Sure, sure. I'll see where they are." He scrolled for a moment, then nodded. "Officer Michael Patterson – he's in with the orthopedic surgeon, he's got a torn ligament, nothing life-threatening. What was the other one?"

"Officer Janko. Edit is her first name."

The doctor furrowed his brow. "Okay, Janko…here it is. She's…still in surgery. She's with Dr. Hunt, he's one of our best."

The diversion from the doctor's usual overt cheerfulness made the sobriety of the moment all the more alarming. "Is she likely?" Frank braced himself for the answer.

Dr. Matthews chuckled uncomfortably. "You know I don't like that phrasing – likely to die? But let me put it this way – each minute she spends on that table with one of my trauma surgeons, it's a little more _likely_ that she survives."

In that moment, Frank was glad that he'd been the one to come talk to the doctor instead of Jamie or Danny; he wasn't sure that either of them would have been able to refrain from hitting the man. As it was, he didn't feel that picking a fight with the ER doctor would be the best way to glean information. He forced a smile. "Well, of course. When you do have more information, you can give it to me. My youngest son is her partner, so I'll pass it along."

The doctor nodded affirmatively before being distracted by his beeping pager. "Better run, Frank. As soon as anything changes, you'll be the first to know."

The commissioner shook his head as the doctor strode away towards the surgical floor.

* * *

After Jamie's departure, Danny Reagan paced the length of the waiting area, glancing every so often at the double doors leading to the operating rooms. Like his father, Danny hated hospitals; despite the fact that his wife worked in one, he could never shake the association with death that had come after his grandmother's bout with breast cancer. Today, he cursed the circumstances that had him waiting in that emergency room.

The whole family had seen Jamie through the loss of his previous partner. His brother had clashed with Vinny at first, but they'd eventually become good friends. And Danny knew that as a cop, there was nothing worse than feeling that you'd failed to have your partner's back. But he also knew that what Jamie was feeling now was likely more than that.

Admittedly, Danny had started giving his brother crap about Janko before he'd even met the woman; hearing that his brother was partnered with a female rookie was all he needed to get the innuendoes flying. But seeing the two of them together hadn't exactly quashed the idea. In fact, it was pretty much the opposite. The protective side of Jamie that emerged around Janko seemed to cross the boundaries of platonic partnership, and rumors passed on from Erin backed up his suspicions. And recalling how he'd felt when Linda had been shot a few years prior, Danny felt for his brother. Putting the job aside, there was nothing worse than waiting on the outside while the person you loved was fighting for their life.

The fact that he could sympathize was probably why Danny hadn't killed his brother for leaving the scene after finding him perfectly unscathed in the ER. At another time, Danny would absolutely have given him hell for setting off the family's alarms like that. As it stood, though, Danny didn't think that berating Jamie was the most productive course of action, at least not until Janko had made it out of surgery. It was clear that the kid was in another world, as evidenced by his uncharacteristically unprofessional response to their father's reproach. Now, as Danny anxiously surveyed the emergency department, he prayed for a good outcome. The whole family worried about the effect that the job would have on Jamie's psyche, especially after the loss of Vinny Cruz, but Danny feared that the loss of another partner, especially Janko, would push the kid over the edge. As much as he mocked Jamie for having a bleeding heart, he hated seeing that side of his brother gradually worn away by the realities of the job, and knew that losing Eddie would shatter what remained of it.

The wail of a siren outside snapped Danny out of his funk. He watched with mild interest as a gurney was wheeled in through the ambulance bay doors, propelled by doctors wearing yellow trauma gowns and barking orders. He took a few steps and followed the gurney with his gaze as it was wheeled through the bustling ER. When he turned back to his previous spot, he was startled to see it filled by a young male doctor in light blue scrubs. The doctor didn't seem to notice Danny, peering down at the chart in his hands and scanning the room confusedly.

Danny approached the young man. "Hey, doc?"

The man looked up at him. "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for information on a patient. The name's Eddie Janko, she's a cop, brought in for a GSW."

The doctor checked his chart again, then nodded. "You must be the partner, right? Officer Reagan?"

Danny thanked his lucky stars for the young doctor's inability to tell a detective's shield from a beat cop's. "Yeah, that's me. How is she?" He waited for the man's response, almost dreading the answer. From the little he'd gotten out of Jamie, Janko's injuries were pretty serious – even if she'd survived the surgery, he knew gunshot wounds could often be debilitating. He knew all too many good cops who'd been forced into early retirement due to injuries that had sounded less serious than Eddie's.

The young doctor skimmed further through the chart before starting to speak.

* * *

After being dismissed by his brother, Jamie spent a few minutes in the bathroom. He couldn't bring himself to look in the mirror, but imagined that he must look like hell. Instead, he stood there numbly and watched the water turn red as it ran over his hands. People banged in and out of the stalls behind him and used the surrounding sinks; he was sure that he must have attracted some curious stares as he stood there unmoving, but he wasn't worried about it. He also wasn't worried about the rip he was sure to catch for leaving the scene, or even about inflicting the same punishment on the rookie who'd helped him. As Jamie stood there watching the running water, his mind wandered, doing anything to avoid thinking about what might be waiting when he stepped out of the bathroom.

 _It was the first night of his partnership with Eddie. He had gotten through the ride to the crime scene with gritted teeth, and was honestly surprised they had avoided getting in an accident. When they'd rolled up to the scene, he'd worried about how his seemingly fearless new boot would handle a call that had her more experienced TO caught off-guard. But she hadn't faltered, and what he remembered most vividly about that night was the sound of her voice echoing simultaneously from behind him and through the radio on his shoulder even as fear shone in her eyes and the blood of a fellow officer pooled on the ground at her feet._

 _He had been sitting on an exam table in the emergency room after Richard Price had torched their radio car, waiting for a doctor to come sign his discharge papers. Eddie had come in tentatively, lingering just inside the curtain blocking off the area, uncharacteristically serious. One of her friends at the 12_ _th_ _had driven her car over and so she drove him home after, exchanging few words on the way. She'd pulled over and parked, getting out to swing the door open on his side and pull his duffel bag out of the backseat. He'd taken it from her with his good arm, but she'd just stood there staring at him. Just as he'd opened his mouth to ask if she was okay, she'd stepped forward and embraced him, careful to avoid his injured side. He'd been startled, but had hugged her back as best he could given the injury to one arm and bag hanging from the other. They'd stood like that for a moment before she'd pulled away and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm just glad you're okay, I guess." He'd told her it was okay, and the next day when she arrived at his door with a bag of burgers they'd pretended it had never happened._

That seemed to be a common theme with them lately. Jamie grimaced at the memory, wondering when their relationship had reached the point where she felt she had to apologize for hugging him. He thought ruefully of her confession in his apartment a few months before, and his punch-up at the wedding the following week. He shook his head and turned the water off, shaking off his wet hands as he pulled open the bathroom door. Avoiding the curious glances of the interns manning the nurse's station, he strode back towards the emergency waiting area. As he entered the doorway into the larger space, he immediately noticed his brother deep in conversation with a young doctor. He froze where he stood, and Danny looked over the man's shoulder to notice his brother. He beckoned with his head for Jamie to come over, but Jamie was momentarily affixed to his spot. All he'd wanted was to hear news on his partner, but now, remembering how pale she'd been and how much blood had gathered on the ground, he dreaded hearing what the doctor had to say. He knew he had to, though, so he forced himself forward into the noise and bustle of the emergency room.

* * *

A/N: Back with a slightly longer chapter this time, don't hate me for the ending! We will find out what happened to Eddie next chapter (even I couldn't draw this out any longer, lol).

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, I really appreciate the support and the feedback! (To whoever reviewed as a guest on chapter 1 about a line of dialogue, thank you for pointing that out, I totally didn't notice but it has been tweaked.)

Hopefully I will get chapter 4 out soon, it is still in progress but should get out by the end of this week. Thanks for reading!


	4. For Now

He'd been standing there staring through the Plexiglas window for the better part of an hour, but Jamie couldn't bring himself to go in. He'd tried to listen to the doctor's attempts to explain the situation, but hadn't been able to process most of it. All he'd taken away was a phrase the man had repeated at the beginning and end of their conversation: _critical but stable_. He didn't really understand how that was possible – if she was bad enough to be labeled in critical condition, how could she be stable? What he did know, though, was that she was alive. Although that was hard for him to wrap his head around in a sense too, as he stood there outside the window of her room in the ICU looking in.

He didn't understand why it was so hard for him to look at her. A nurse had come by and cleaned off the blood from her face and hands after surgery, so she basically just looked like she was sleeping. Except, of course, for her ghost-like pallor, and the cannula in her nose, IVs in her arm and monitors stuck to her chest – so not at all, really. But on the surface, she looked peaceful, with none of the fear from earlier visible in her expression. Maybe that was what was bothering him so much. She shouldn't be so calm right now, normally after a call with an officer shot she'd be keyed up, pacing in the hospital waiting room and chattering endlessly to him about anything but what they'd just seen. As he'd sat there in that waiting room where they'd sat together so many times before, he'd almost expected her to drop down in the seat next to him and start complaining about the hospital's coffee, inviting him to turn and rib her about her caffeine consumption. But this wasn't one of their friends from the 12th who'd been shot. That was always hard, of course: an officer's injury could cast a pall over the whole precinct for days. To Jamie, though, this was a thousand times worse. Because for the last four years, each time that one of his friends was injured or, God forbid, killed in the line of duty, Eddie had been there. They'd sat together in hospital waiting rooms, visited their injured colleagues' bedsides together, driven each other to funerals so as not to walk in alone.

But now Jamie was alone. After they'd been escorted back to the ICU by the doctor, he'd put on a brave face and convinced Danny to go home. He didn't believe for a minute that his brother had actually _gone_ home, certain that he was somewhere at the 12th sticking his nose into their case, but he'd appreciated Danny giving him space. He wasn't even sure why he'd needed space; the only explanation he could give to himself was that he didn't want his brother to see how deeply this had shaken him. On the surface, he knew this made no sense – if anyone knew the importance of a partner, it was Danny. At the same time, though, a voice in the back of his head told him that Danny would never go to pieces like this if Baez or even Jackie had been shot on the job. He told himself that it was because of Vinny – of course seeing one partner bleed out in your arms would make you more sensitive to the same thing happening to the next. The excuse was so reasonable that he almost convinced himself. Danny, though, would have been another story, so Jamie was glad that his brother had left.

As he stood there in the doorway, a nurse in light green scrubs brushed by and smiled at him. "Just want to check in and get her vitals for the doctor."

Jamie forced a smile onto his face as the woman adjusted some of the monitors and jotted a few quick notes in the chart. As she finished, she looked back up at him and grinned. "Everything's stable! She's doing very well."

Slightly buoyed by the woman's seemingly genuine optimism, Jamie plucked up the courage to ask her what he hadn't been able to ask the doctor before. "Do you think she's gonna make it?"

Her smile didn't falter. "I think so. She's still critical, but she made it through a really tough surgery and she's stable now, which is a good sign. She's not out of the woods yet, but if you ask me? This one's a fighter."

Jamie felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth for the first time since they'd received that radio call earlier in the day. "You're right about that."

The nurse chuckled as she walked out of the room. After she stepped into the hallway, she turned back to him with a quizzical look on her face. "You can go in, you know. I mean, you don't have to, of course, but I hope you're not waiting out here thinking this is as far as you can go."

He nodded. "Thanks."

She smiled before she turned and disappeared down the hallway. Jamie sighed heavily as he stared at Eddie in the hospital bed. Maybe going in would help, sort of let him prove to himself that she was still alive. He shook his head and exhaled heavily as he forced himself into the room and sat down in the chair beside her bed.

From this vantage point, he could see more of the signs of what she'd been through today. Whoever had been in to wash her face had missed a spot along her hairline, since there was dried blood encrusted there that must have somehow rubbed onto her face. She was as white as a sheet, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Looking at her, he was suddenly overcome by a wave of protectiveness, and he reached out and wrapped her left hand in both of his, careful to avoid disturbing the pulse-ox monitor on her index finger. Her hand was warm, which he was grateful for as he subconsciously stroked the backs of her fingers. Despite hearing the doctors and seeing her heart rate measured on the monitor beside her bed, he hadn't really been able to process the fact that she was alive until that moment. He stared down at her hand and suddenly fought back an inexplicable urge to kiss it. Instead, and without fully acknowledging what he'd just wanted to do, he squeezed her hand tighter and took a deep breath for the first time in hours.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Jamie still sat there holding Eddie's hand. He'd allowed his mind to wander onto other topics, now that he could be reminded that she was okay by the warmth of her hand in his. He was distracted, then, when he heard a knock on the door. He lifted his head and looked behind him to see Sergeant Renzulli poking his head through the door, which was ajar. Immediately, he dropped Eddie's hand, somehow feeling simultaneously guilty and violated, as though their boss had interrupted something more intimate than him holding her hand while she lay there unconscious.

Renzulli looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He'd removed his hat after knocking on the door, and he twisted the fabric in his hands. He smiled tightly once Jamie noticed him. "Mind if I come in?"

Jamie sat stunned for a moment, then stood up from his chair. "Yeah, yeah. Of course."

The sergeant stepped fully inside the room, but didn't approach the bed any further. He looked down at Eddie and his face softened. He didn't look up from her as he addressed Jamie. "How's she doing?"

Jamie sighed. "She's alive – for now."

The sad smile that had formed on his boss' face at the beginning of that sentence dropped at Jamie's last words. Renzulli looked up at his old boot quizzically.

Jamie moved to explain. "They said she's 'critical, but stable'." He made quote marks in the air when repeating the doctor's description. "I don't really know how that works. I guess it's like, she's not dying right now, but she could...start dying any time? I don't know. All this stuff is bullshit anyway, they don't know what's gonna happen." His voice was cold, with a lot of the hope he'd built up being sucked away after reminding himself of Eddie's condition.

As Jamie's tone hardened, Renzulli's expression did the same. The sergeant dreaded the conversation that he had to have with Jamie, which was why he'd put off coming to the hospital until he'd been tipped off that Janko was at least alive. He hated punishing his people on the best of days, and in a situation where he thought he understood the motivations of the particular officer involved better than the officer did himself, he almost resented the regulations that forced him to be the disciplinarian. He steeled himself for an unpleasant conversation.

Jamie, who had completely put his transgression out of his mind as soon as he'd spoken to the doctor, was taken aback by the steely tone in which his sergeant asked – or really, ordered – him to step outside so that they could talk. He held the door open for Renzulli, and swung it shut behind them, following his boss down the hallway and around the corner.

When they'd gone far enough from Eddie's room that Renzulli felt he could speak freely, he turned around to face Jamie. "Reagan, you're killing me here."

Jamie furrowed his brow. "What is it, Sarge?"

Renzulli crossed his arms. "Two years ago – two friggin' years – do you remember what I told you? I told you, if you have feelings for Janko, you come to me and I separate the two of you. And you told me, you were _sure_ , you were just friends, you didn't have any feelings for her. And then today I get a call tells me two of my officers blew off crime scene procedure and went off the map after Janko got shot. What am I supposed to think, Reagan?"

Jamie drew in a breath and shook his head. "Sarge – "

But Renzulli plowed on. "Now, coming from a rookie, I can understand. I don't like it, but you know, she's new on the job. Maybe she got overwhelmed and just took off. But from you? You're one of the most levelheaded cops I know – until I put you with Janko, and now you're all over the place. I gotta tell ya, Reagan, you're making me wonder why I've been letting this go on."

"Letting what go on?"

"I was born at night, Reagan, but I wasn't born last night. But frankly, even if I was, I could still see you two got something going on besides just partners."

Jamie forced confusion into his tone. "Yeah, we're friends."

Renzulli scoffed. "I got a lotta friends in this precinct, Reagan, but I gotta tell ya, I don't go haywire and forget all my training for my friends."

"You did." Jamie regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Sure, it was true, but bringing up Renzulli's dead best friend to deflect the conversation from his feelings for Eddie was not going to defuse the situation.

The sergeant furrowed his brow. "What'd you say?"

Jamie looked down. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

Renzulli shook his head. "You know I have to suspend you for this."

Jamie nodded. "Yeah. And Sarge, for the record, I'm sorry. I guess I did sort of fly off the handle, you know, when a _friend_ got shot."

The sergeant's expression softened. "Look, kid, I'm no shrink, but I know this had to have brought back some stuff from when Cruz got killed. Now what you did, it's bad. It's really bad, and it's gonna piss off a lot of the brass, but I'm gonna shoot for a shorter suspension. Maybe two weeks, and then riding a desk for one. I don't want to rake you over the coals too bad for this."

Jamie swallowed hard. "Thanks, Sarge."

Renzulli nodded and patted him on the shoulder, then turned away. He was a few steps down the hallway when he suddenly turned back. "Oh, but Reagan. Do me a favor. Think about it?"

"About what?"

"About Janko. I want you to really think about, if I put you two back together, can you conduct yourself professionally? And do you even _want_ me to put you back together?"

Jamie was stunned into silence.

"You don't have to answer now. But think about it. Because I can't have you flying off the handle like this." With that, Renzulli turned and exited the ICU.

Jamie continued to stare at the spot that Renzulli had vacated, his mind whirling. He was only snapped out of his reverie by a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see the nurse who he'd spoken to in Eddie's room earlier that day.

"Officer Reagan?"

Suddenly a slew of worst-case scenarios washed over him. In the time he'd spent talking to Renzulli, out of view of Eddie's room, any number of things could have gone wrong. She could have slipped into a coma, or been rushed back to surgery; hell, her heart could have stopped and he could walk in to find doctors frantically doing CPR. His voice filled with dread. "What? What happened?"

The nurse smiled and tilted her head in the direction of Eddie's room. "She's awake."

* * *

A/N: She's alive! Of course I sort of did another cliffhanger this time (sorry), but I felt like this was the best way to end the chapter.

Just a few notes: My extensive Grey's Anatomy watching (Dr. Hunt, anyone?) hasn't yet translated into actual medical knowledge (sadly), so I was pretty vague on the details in this chapter, but I'm sorry if there's any glaring medical impossibilities that I've missed.

Also, I've just recently started school and things are getting a little hectic, so the updates may get a bit less frequent as I'm getting everything figured out, but I think I'll shoot for at least weekly. This story is definitely going to be longer than I thought, maybe nine or ten chapters, so I'm hoping to get on a somewhat consistent updating schedule.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing!


	5. Something to Lose

Of all the scenarios Jamie had imagined, this had not been one of them. In all honesty, he hadn't really been able to associate the person lying silent and still in the hospital bed with his vibrant, energetic partner. So when the nurse repeated what she'd said again in response to his uncomprehending expression, he didn't really process it. Instead, he numbly followed the woman down the hall back to Eddie's room. Just before they reached the doorway, they were met by a doctor Jamie hadn't seen yet, a tall redheaded man dressed in dark blue scrubs. The man paused when he saw them. "You the partner?"

Jamie nodded. "Yeah. Jamie Reagan. Are you her doctor?"

"Yep, I'm Dr. Hunt. I operated on your partner."

"So she – she's awake?"

The doctor smiled. "Yeah. She's awake and seems fairly lucid, but don't be surprised if she's a bit out of it from the anesthesia. She was asking for you."

Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, as though trying to clear his vision. "She was?"

"Yeah, she wanted to know if you were okay. You can go on in, if you want."

Jamie nodded, but made no move to do so. The doctor watched him for a moment before being distracted by the buzz of his pager and leaving down the hallway. Now that the doorway was clear, Jamie could see into the hospital room.

The head of the bed had been tilted up, and Eddie was propped up a little bit. She was staring towards the doorway, looking pale and in pain but very much alive. When she saw him, her face relaxed and her mouth curled into a half-smile. Seeing that gave him the courage to step further into the room. As he approached the foot of the bed, her face twisted again into a look of concern. "What happened to you? Are you hurt?" Somehow, her voice sounded exactly right – maybe a little hoarse, but undoubtedly _her_ – and that's what caused Jamie to finally crack a smile. He was so pleased to hear her voice that he failed to process her question until she repeated herself.

"Jamie. Are you okay?"

He could hear fear in her voice, and kicked himself for somehow instilling that in her. He hastened to reassure her, sitting back in his spot beside her bed and resisting the urge to take her hand. Somehow he found his voice. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Eddie. I'm okay."

She furrowed her brow. "You're all bloody." She lifted her good hand and gestured up towards his face, wincing at the pain that moving brought to her fresh surgical wounds.

He didn't comprehend at first, until he twisted in his seat and glanced in the mirror that hung on the wall behind him. What he saw then made him recoil: there was dried blood crusted on his temples and along his hairline, probably from before he'd cleaned the blood from his hands. He was honestly surprised that none of the nurses or doctors he'd encountered had flinched at the sight, though he guessed they probably saw things like that on a fairly regular basis. Not wanting to worry her, though, he turned back to her and forced a smile. "Maybe if my partner hadn't been bleeding all over the place I wouldn't look like an extra from a horror movie." It was a weak and somewhat dark attempt at humor, but somehow seeing her lying there in a hospital bed made him feel this weird compulsion to be glib, as though he could distract himself or her from the situation.

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but he didn't miss the faint smile that tugged on the corners of her lips. "Sorry."

His reserve of humor was exhausted. As he looked at her, still trying to process the fact that she was here and alive and talking to him, he had to suppress the urge again to take her hand or stroke her hair or do _something_ more than just sit there making stupid jokes. She seemed to detect this, and her face grew serious. She didn't say anything, though, just looked at him as though waiting for him to speak. He tried to think of something to say other than what he was really feeling, not wanting to scare her or expose himself by expressing his overwhelming relief. In the end, though, he couldn't think of anything to say other than what was running through his mind. "You scared the crap out of me, Janko."

Delivered with the right amount of lightheartedness mixed with solemnity, this would have been a completely appropriate thing for a partner to say in this situation. But when Jamie spoke, there was no humor in his tone. She was pretty attuned to his voice after four years of riding together, and even foggy from the anesthesia she could tell that his casual phrasing was a front for the total fear he'd been feeling. There was a part of her that couldn't help but feel guilty for being the source of the tortured expression on his face. She lifted her good hand again and placed it over his where it rested on the edge of her bed. He looked up at her when her hand squeezed his. "I'm okay, Jamie."

Seeing her lying in a hospital bed, with multiple tubes coming out of her body and obviously in pain, and still trying to reassure him would have been laughable if it hadn't made him feel so incredibly guilty. As it was, he felt a simultaneous rush of resentment for his own reaction and affection for her. At a loss for words, he turned his hand over where hers covered it and intertwined their fingers. She gave him a small smile that was probably meant to reassure but just made him feel worse.

He tore his eyes away from hers and fixed them on the monitors beside her bed. "How you feeling?" His tone was kind, but he avoided her eyes.

She snorted. "Like I got shot." She gestured at the morphine pump that hung beside her bed. "This hasn't kicked in yet, but the doc said it'll take the edge off."

He nodded dumbly, unable to find words. As he'd sat there waiting on news he'd run over the situation leading up to the shooting over and over in his head. Doing that had made him realize how stupid he'd been, how careless it was to let Eddie chase after Patterson without backup when for all they'd known he'd been shot already. He'd chastised himself over and over for staying on the scene, for not leaving Martinez to deal with the perp herself or call in more backup. Now as he sat there and saw the pain on her face he couldn't stop blaming himself, even though he knew what she'd say.

Her face softened as she watched him, detecting some of the battle he had going on internally. "This isn't your fault, you know."

He didn't even look up, just snorted. "It is. I should've been there to back you up, and I wasn't, and I'm sorry for that. But it is my fault."

She sighed and pulled her hand from his, this motion causing him to look up at her. "It's _not_ , Jamie. You did everything you were supposed to do, no one would've left that rookie on the scene alone. Hell, I would've done the same thing. You don't have to feel guilty." There was annoyance in her tone, but also sympathy; she did understand the guilt he was feeling.

He sighed heavily at her words, not knowing how to respond. He knew in his head that he'd acted responsibly, but there was a part of him that was still wishing he could turn back the clock and follow Eddie into the alley. The moment passed between them silently, with both of them wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"I keep feeling like I should've seen it coming." The sound of her voice broke through his awareness. He looked up at her, brow furrowed.

"This isn't on you, Eddie." The fact that she could be blaming herself for getting shot was absurd to him.

She bit her lip and looked down. "I stepped out in front of him, Jamie." Her voice cracked on his name. "I came around from the other side of the alley, looking for him, y'know, but I didn't see anyone. But then I heard him shoot Mike and I just – I didn't think. I just came out from behind the dumpster and pointed my gun at him. And I shot him, I did, but – he got me too. It was so _stupid_." There were tears in her eyes when she finished, and Jamie reached back out and took her hand before he could stop himself. She squeezed his gratefully and stared fixedly down at their joined hands, blinking back tears.

He wrapped his other hand around hers. "God, it's not _your_ fault, Eddie. See, you won't let me say it's my fault, but you're over here blaming yourself. You don't get to do that." He smiled a little in an attempt to bring her out of her funk.

She didn't laugh, just looked up and met his eyes. "I thought – " She cut herself off.

He looked at her questioningly. "Thought what?"

She shook her head. "Just – for a minute, earlier, in the alley, I thought I was dying." Her voice grew tight with suppressed tears, but didn't break.

 _I thought so too_ , was the first response that came into his head. He pushed it back and didn't say anything, choosing to give her the moment to collect her thoughts.

"I felt so _stupid_ , you know? Like, I was lying there _dying_ and all I could think was I didn't do _anything_ that I wanted to. There's all this stuff that I wanted to do in my life and I've barely done any of it – and then I realized I was lying there bleeding out on the sidewalk thinking about how I wanted to, like, go to Spain, or get married, or buy a house, and how stupid is that. I mean, we're supposed to be willing to die for this job, right? And I thought I _was_ , and I did all that undercover work and we've almost died – God knows how many times, and now I just – I don't know. I'm not ready to die."

"No one ever is." It wasn't a particularly helpful response, but it was what jumped into his head. He'd never subscribed to all the ideas about someone's "time coming" or whatever, especially not as more of his loved ones had died too soon. Hell, Joe had been engaged when he'd died, and Vinny…well, Vinny had still been sowing his oats. But neither of them had been _ready_ to die.

She seemed to realize then what he was referring to, and she dropped her head back against the head of her bed, letting out a choked laugh. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean – I didn't want to sound like anyone else _is_ , or – or was. I just…I'm sorry."

He hastened to reassure her. "No, Eddie, it's – I get it. I do. I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it to sound like I was – judging you, or anything. Because I'm not, at all. I can't even imagine how you must've felt."

She turned her head to meet his eyes. "Thanks." He squeezed her hand.

They were interrupted by the vibration of the PCA pump beside Jamie, signaling Eddie's first round of pain medication. Eddie inhaled sharply. "Oh, press it!" He obliged, and she sighed in relief as he pressed the blinking green button.

As they sat there, he noticed her fighting off a yawn and immediately chastised himself. "God, you must be exhausted. I should go and let you rest." He moved to get up from the chair.

She didn't let go of his hand as he shifted in the chair. "You don't have to go, if you don't want." She spoke casually, but he could detect a plea in her eyes.

He fought the urge to grin. "Okay. I'll stay." He settled back into the chair.

She smiled as he did so, letting her eyes slip closed. He sat there watching until her breaths evened out into the rhythm of sleep.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry for the slightly longer wait, I've been slammed with work but am writing when I can. The good news is that Chapter 6 is in progress so it should hopefully be finished and posted over the weekend sometime. (I tried not to end on a cliffhanger this time!)

Also, again, I am not a doctor and all my medical knowledge comes from the internet, so if you are someone who knows about this stuff and you're appalled by some glaring medical inaccuracy, please let me know and I'll try to fix it.

Thanks to everyone who reads, and as always, reviews are highly appreciated!


	6. Recovery

Eddie woke up to a dark and empty room. She was disoriented at first, until the shooting pain in her abdomen and the IV that dangled annoyingly from her hand reminded her of where she was. Her mouth was incredibly dry, so she reached for the table that sat on wheels beside her bed and grabbed a cup of water that one of the nurses had poured for her earlier. She set it down after taking a few sips, noticing her phone resting beside it on the table. Curious as to how it had gotten there – the last she remembered, she'd put it in the pocket of her uniform before they'd responded to the call the day before – she picked it up and pushed the power button. Surprisingly, it still had some charge; the clock on the display showed that it was a little after three in the morning, which surprised her. She'd slept for longer than she'd expected, having fallen asleep around five the previous evening. Unlocking her phone, she wasn't surprised to see about a dozen missed calls and text notifications, mostly from friends in the 12th. The first message that she opened, though, did surprise her:

 _Hey partner, sorry I had to run out. The docs kicked me out around 8 because of visiting hours. I'll be back later today – I'm suspended, I'll have to tell you that story later. Call if you need anything._

She was glad then that no one was in the room to see the idiotic smile that spread across her face after reading the message. Wincing as she sat back in the bed, she typed out a reply.

 _Ooh, the Boy Scout went rogue? I need to hear this story._

After sending it, she typed out another message. _Hey, thanks for last night._ But as soon as she saw it in writing she quickly deleted it. In person, she'd be able to say it with just the right amount of sheepishness mixed with lightheartedness and genuine gratitude that would keep it from screwing up their fragile dynamic. Over text, there was no way to convey those same nuances, and the bare meaning of the words left her entirely too vulnerable.

She waited for a moment to see if he would respond. When no three dots popped up signaling that he was typing, she assumed that he was probably asleep. Wanting to conserve battery on her phone – whoever had conveniently left it next to her hadn't gone so far as to procure her a charger – she put the phone aside and settled back against her pillows, pushing the button on the PCA pump again. She didn't like the lightheaded feeling that it gave her, but figured it might help her sleep. Which it did – within five minutes she felt herself drifting off again.

* * *

She found herself waking up again around eight, when a nurse came in to change her bandages. Checking her phone yielded nothing from Jamie, only a few messages from friends in different precincts who'd heard about her injury through the grapevine. Assuming that her partner must still be sleeping off the events of the day before, she put the phone aside and began flipping through morning talk shows. After that, the morning passed without much excitement. Her doctor stopped in around nine to jot down some numbers, but ran out after about two minutes, saying she was "progressing well." Besides that and a nurse stopping by to drop off a breakfast tray, which she hadn't been able to bring herself to eat, she'd been pretty much left alone. So when she heard a knock on the door, she didn't have many expectations; maybe a contingent from the precinct stopping by, or Sergeant Renzulli dropping in to check on her. She certainly wasn't expecting to look up and see the police commissioner leaning against the doorframe.

Had she not been so shocked, she would have laughed at her own reaction. She sat up straight from where she'd been leaning back in the bed, wincing at the pain as she did so. The commissioner, who was far more at ease with the situation, did crack a small smile, which from what she gleaned from Jamie was basically his equivalent of a full-on belly laugh. "As you were, Officer Janko."

She smiled sheepishly and relaxed her posture. The commissioner gestured towards the room from his spot in the doorway. "Mind if I come in?"

"Oh, of – of course! Come in!" Eddie was decidedly on edge. Her mind was not at its sharpest right now, and even in the best of times she wasn't good at talking to authority figures. Adding In the fact that this was her ultimate boss as well as her best friend's father meant that she was fumbling over her words. But the commissioner was here, and she had to play it cool. She scooted up into a sitting position in the bed as the commissioner sat down in the chair that had been vacated by his son a few hours earlier. The memory brought with it an irrational wave of anxiety, that somehow her boss knew of all her highly inappropriate feelings for Jamie and was here to suspend her or revoke her badge or just give her a terrifyingly disapproving look until she melted into the bed out of shame.

Frank, as he settled into the chair beside the bed, wasn't aware of her spiraling thoughts, or at least he pretended not to be. Seeing that he wasn't actively yelling at her, Eddie smiled weakly, not wanting to be the first to speak. Mercifully, and probably with some awareness of how awkward she was feeling given the faintly amused look on his face, the commissioner spoke.

"How're you feeling?"

His tone was kind, which would have helped her feel better if not for the fact that he spoke virtually the same words as Jamie had last night. Still, she appreciated his solicitousness. "Much better, sir."

He chuckled. "Hard to believe."

A flicker of concern crossed her face at his words. He saw this and explained. "I took a potshot to the gut back in the day – right under the vest, like this. Hurt like a son of a bitch. Definitely for longer than a few hours."

She laughed out of a combination of relief that he wasn't genuinely trying to call her out and amusement at seeing the commissioner drop a little of his highly professional exterior. "Yeah, I've been better." She tapped on the medication pump. "This helps."

The commissioner smiled. "I should tell you, the family sends their best wishes."

She blushed at hearing him acknowledge their personal connection. "Thank you, sir."

He inhaled deeply and glanced at the door as though to ensure that they were alone before he spoke. "Now I say this as the commissioner to his officer, but I also say it as a father. For my son's sake as well as your own and my department's, I'm glad you're still with us."

To her great embarrassment, Eddie felt herself tear up a bit. "Thank you, sir. So am I."

He stood from the chair and nodded at her. "Rest up. The 12th needs you back on the streets." As he turned to leave, he nearly collided with a figure wearing a heavy coat and carrying a brown paper bag, brushing snow from his hair.

Jamie stepped back when he saw his father. "D – uh, commissioner!"

Frank nodded. "Officer Reagan."

Jamie forced a degree of casualness into his tone. "Uh…what are you doing here?"

"I stopped by to pay your partner a visit." Frank nodded at Eddie.

At that, Jamie seemed to remember why he was there, and glanced over his father's shoulder to meet his partner's amused expression. He narrowed his eyes at her slightly, as though telling her off for laughing at him. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Frank was not oblivious to the wordless conversation taking place between the partners, but chose to ignore it for the moment. He turned back to Eddie and nodded with a smile. "Officer Janko, best of luck with your recovery. The whole department is behind you." The familiarity of their earlier conversation seemed to have disappeared with Jamie's arrival.

She nodded. "Thank you, sir." With that, the commissioner turned and departed down the hallway. Now that the doorway was clear, Jamie entered and sat down in the chair that his father had vacated, smiling sheepishly at Eddie. She smiled back at him involuntarily as he lifted the paper bag to show her.

"I brought food."

Her face lit up as she reached for the bag, forgetting for a moment about her injured arm and cursing when the movement sent a twinge of pain through her shoulder. He winced and laughed at her wounded expression. She wrinkled her nose at him. "What'd you bring me?"

"Bacon, egg and cheese. And coffee. Decaf – my sister in law said you can't drink caffeine with all the pain meds."

Something inside of her thrilled at the fact that he'd asked his sister in law about her. She shook her head at him. "You know, just this once I'll forgive you for getting me decaf. I'm starving, and this hospital food is crap." He laughed as he passed her a paper-wrapped sandwich and a lidded paper cup.

She rested the sandwich on her lap and popped open the top of the coffee cup, taking a long sip. As she did so, she noticed a strange expression flicker onto his face. Wrapping her hands around the cup, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

He gave her a self-conscious half-smile. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

She widened her eyes in mock astonishment. "Really?" He rolled his eyes at her. She laughed. "What were you thinking about?"

He took a long drink from his own coffee before he responded. "Coffee." He cut a look at the cup she still held in her hands.

Her confusion must have shown on her face, because he began to clarify right away. "Yesterday, after you got picked up in the ambulance. The rookie and I left the scene and took our radio car over to the hospital – that's why I'm suspended, you know, for taking off. So then we got there and I was sitting there in the ER and I realized I was holding on to your coffee – like, as though I was gonna bring it to you or something." He chuckled self-consciously. "I don't know. I wasn't really thinking straight – clearly, since I took off without clearance. But I ended up throwing it out – the coffee, I mean – after you got out of surgery. Figured it was probably gross by then anyway."

His confession left her struggling for words for a moment. "Wait. You – you left the scene of a shooting without waiting for backup to get there? Did you call in?"

He snorted. "No. I think Sarge almost had a stroke."

She stared at him in consternation. "Jesus, Reagan." She wasn't actually overly floored by his transgression itself, but rather by the image of her partner so emotionally unhinged that he totally disregarded the rules.

That wasn't even factoring in the later part of the story. She shook her head as if to clear it before asking the next part of her question. "You brought my coffee into the ER with you?" Her tone was softer now, and less shocked.

He shrugged. "It's weird, I know."

"No, it's – it's actually kind of sweet, in a weird way."

"You say that now. Danny thought I was crazy."

She chuckled. "Easy for him to say."

Jamie nodded. "Exactly."

They sat in silence for a moment before Jamie reached back into the paper bag he'd brought and pulled out another sandwich. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"What do you think?" She grinned as she pulled her own sandwich from its wrapping and took a bite. She sighed appreciatively. "God, Reagan, I love you."

He shrugged modestly. "I try."

The partners fell into a comfortable silence as they ate.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! This was a fun one to write. For some reason this coffee idea has really stuck with me.

Chapter 7 still has a ways to go, but I'm hoping to get it out around Sunday-ish. You might hear from a few Reagans who haven't appeared as of yet, so keep an eye out!

Thanks for reading and please drop a review!


	7. Just Friends

Henry Reagan's kitchen bustled with activity as he worked with his granddaughter-in-law and great-granddaughter to put the final touches on the dinner they were preparing. After Nicky had finished her freshman year and moved into an off-campus apartment with roommates, he'd taken it upon himself to teach her to cook "at least one decent meal", as he'd done for three out of his four grandchildren before her. (Danny's immediate enlistment in the Marines after high school had served to keep him safely away from his grandfather's cooking lessons.) Nicky hadn't exactly shown a natural affinity, with her first attempt at a lasagna having turned out inexplicably soggy, so Linda had insisted on hovering to make sure that the dessert, at least, would remain unscathed. The rest of the family was avoiding the kitchen that Sunday: besides Henry, most of the Reagan men present held rather patriarchal views on cooking, much to the dismay of Erin and Nicky, while Erin herself was putting her feet up with a glass of scotch after a hellish week prosecuting a high-powered attorney for fraud.

Besides the occasional shout from the other room directed towards the Jets game on TV, the chefs of the day saw no signs of the rest of the family until Nicky was dispatched to tell them that dinner was served. At that point, the family pushed themselves up from their reclining chairs or spots on the floor and filled the long dining table.

It was Jack's turn to say grace that week, which he did only after much prodding from his mother; after a certain age getting a kid to say grace was like pulling teeth, which would have concerned Henry had he not remembered his own (now faithfully churchgoing) son going through the same phase. After Jack finished and began passing the serving dishes, Nicky looked around the table curiously. "Where's Jamie?"

By now, most of the family was used to her calling her uncle by his first name. She'd been born when he was only sixteen, and she sometimes saw him as more of a big brother than an uncle. So she was surprised by Danny's snicker, which was followed by a reproachful look from her mother, when she asked the question. "What?"

Danny sighed and shook his head at Erin before turning to Nicky. "His partner's getting out of the hospital today. He went to help her pack up and take her home." The statement was straightforward enough, but there was an edge to his tone that hinted at something else.

Nicky wanted to pry, but a glimpse at her mother staring daggers made her reconsider, instead opting for an innocuous question. "Doesn't Eddie have family?"

Erin jumped in to answer this one. For as much grief as she gave Jamie about his partner, she'd become defensive at Danny's increasingly less subtle jabs about the two of them in the week following the shooting, and didn't want to give her brother any more chances to pique Nicky's interest, or, frankly, their father's. "Not that I know of, no. Jamie's her emergency contact with the department."

"That sucks," Jack commented from the other end of the table. "Just, it must be hard not to have anyone around for something like this," he amended when met with reproachful looks from his mother and great-grandfather.

Frank chose to ignore his grandson's vaguely crass language. "Well, Jack, Officer Janko may not have parents or siblings around, but she certainly hasn't been alone."

"Yeah, Jamie's been glued to her bedside all week." This came from Danny, who then glanced at his wife as she kicked him lightly under the table. "What? He has."

"She's had a lot of visitors from their house this week," Frank cut in, trying to defuse the situation before it grew into a conversation he didn't want to hear. Of course he'd heard gossip about Jamie and his partner – both from within the department, which he always stopped in its tracks, and from the family, which was less easy to squelch. Watching Jamie's reaction on the day of the shooting, as well as his actions over the past five days, had further cemented his suspicions. But he also really didn't believe that anything illicit was going on, and in fact thought that maybe his son wasn't entirely aware of what was making him react so viscerally to his partner's injury. In any case, he knew now was not the time to address it. "That's one of the benefits of joining the force. You'll always have people in your corner," he continued.

Linda let out a slightly forced chuckle and rolled her eyes. "You recruiting, Commissioner?" Her tone was whimsical, but there was a strain to it. As Jack approached his senior year, she was trying to subtly steer him towards higher education over the academy, or worse, enlisting in the Marines.

Frank felt for her, and smiled down the table at his grandson. "Well, we're all fortunate enough that we have people in our corner, whatever we choose to do." Linda sat back in her chair, momentarily mollified, though feeling that her father-in-law might have meant that as a jab at her apparently not-so-subtle techniques.

Nicky was neither distracted by Frank's tactics nor clued in to the situation enough to know not to pry. "Wait. So _what's_ going on with Jamie and Officer Janko?"

Erin sighed, casting a dirty look at Danny. "Nothing's going on. They're just friends."

Danny snorted. "You know who's just friends? Me and Baez."

"Danny – "

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I said nothing."

Nicky looked back and forth between her uncle and her mother. "So – does he have a thing for her? Is that what's going on here?"

Erin dropped her head with a chuckle, as Frank looked up to the ceiling as though searching for a way out. It was Henry who spoke up, though. "Jamie is a grown man. His partnership is his own business," he said emphatically. "Sitting around speculating on it does no good for anyone."

Linda nodded from beside Henry. "Pop's right, it's none of our business. Let's leave it alone."

Jack craned around his brother to make eye contact with his cousin. "Yeah, Nicky. Besides, you're the one who's always talking about how it's 'just our society that thinks it's impossible for men and women to have platonic relationships' or whatever." He made air quotes for the part of the sentence that he'd pulled from prior debates with his cousin.

Nicky rolled her eyes. "That's not – "

Frank heaved a sigh. "All right. Let's change the topic."

Erin nodded. "I second that. Jack, how're the applications coming?"

Everyone turned toward Jack, who sighed, resenting the direction that the conversation had taken. But he grudgingly launched into a rundown of his completed college applications and supplements, and the earlier topic was mostly forgotten.

* * *

Eddie sat in the chair beside her hospital bed scribbling on a clipboard, dressed in an NYPD t-shirt and sweats that had been dug out of her locker by a friend at the precinct. She looked up when she heard a tap at the door frame, and smiled at the sight of her partner. "Ready to blow this joint?"

She nodded, rolling her eyes emphatically. "More than ready."

He grinned. "My car's in the lot out front. Has the doc been by yet?"

"Not yet. The nurse just dropped off the forms, so I'm just gonna do them so that when he does show up I can get out fast."

"Wow, you're really ready to go, huh?"

She gestured around the small hospital room. "Wouldn't you be?"

He shrugged and nodded acquiescently as he came and sat down on the vacated hospital bed with a sigh. She looked up at him quizzically. "Long day?"

He snorted and shook his head. "Doing what, sitting around on my ass? No, just tired."

Though she knew better than to voice it, all week she'd suspected he hadn't been sleeping. If she'd had two weeks' suspension she would've at least taken advantage of the chance to sleep in, but he'd been showing up with breakfast at the beginning of visiting hours every day, usually fresh from a run. He'd only delayed his visit today so that he could drive her home at her five PM discharge time. Five PM in theory, anyway – it was now getting on 5:15 and she hadn't seen her doctor since that morning.

She was startled by another knocking on the doorframe. When she looked up and saw Dr. Hunt standing in the doorway, she couldn't contain a small sigh of relief. The doctor didn't notice, but Jamie looked over at her amusedly. "Officer Janko, how's it going? Ready to get out of here?"

She struggled to keep her tone free of sarcasm. "Yeah, just about."

The doctor chuckled. "Yeah, by now you're probably sick of this place." He spared her having to answer by coming over and picking up the clipboard from where she'd placed it on the bed. "This finished?"

She nodded. "Just needs your signature."

He scanned through the pages before nodding and signing his name at the end. "All right, you're good to go. Tara will be by with a wheelchair in a minute to take you out. And I'm assuming this is your ride home?"

She looked over at Jamie. "Yeah, but – I don't need a wheelchair, I'm totally fine to walk."

The doctor shook his head. "I'm sure you are, but it's hospital policy, just bear with it. Any more questions before I go?"

Glancing over at her partner and narrowing her eyes at his amused expression, she shook her head at the doctor. "No, thank you." As Dr. Hunt turned and left down the hallway, she pumped a fist silently, making Jamie chuckle. Right on cue, the nurse who'd been taking care of Eddie for most of that week entered the room, maneuvering a wheelchair through the doorway.

Eddie looked up at her incredulously. "Is this really necessary? You _know_ I can walk."

Tara chuckled sympathetically. "I know, but it's a liability issue for the hospital. They have to make sure you don't get hurt walking out of here. It's not so bad."

Eddie sighed and glanced over at Jamie, who seemed to be entirely too entertained by the situation. "All right." She heaved herself up from the chair and sat down in the wheelchair, not missing the pain that still shot through her abdomen when she moved – maybe this wasn't a completely terrible idea.

Jamie stood up from the bed and looked over at the nurse. "Do you take her out, or can I?"

Tara gestured to the wheelchair. "Go for it, I trust you. Just bring the chair right in to the front desk when you're done." They both thanked her, and she warned Eddie one last time about taking it easy before departing from the room.

As Jamie grabbed the handles of the chair, she turned to look up at him, wrinkling her nose. "This is degrading."

He tipped his head back and laughed, causing her to slap his arm with her good hand. He looked down at her and patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Sorry. Look, it's just till we get out to the parking lot, then I'll never be able to push you around again."

"Ain't that the truth."

He shook his head, grinning at her. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I haven't spent a lot of time writing the Reagan ensemble before, so please let me know how I did!

So the bad news is that I am probably not going to get another chapter out before the premiere...but the good news is that I don't have time to get another chapter out before the premiere! Who else is excited?

The next chapter should be starting to wrap up the story, it's looking like there will be three more in total.

Thanks so much for reading!


	8. Heart to Heart (Part 1)

Being the patriarch of the family was not something Henry Reagan took lightly. While admittedly most of his family members were fairly self-sufficient, they still often came to him for advice – and when they didn't, he considered it part of his job to advise them anyway. So his inviting Jamie up to the house 'to move some boxes' wasn't entirely above-board. But having heard an account of his grandson's behavior from Frank, and a far less censored and more concerning one from Danny, Henry didn't feel guilty about his ulterior motive. That was one of the things that set him apart from his son, both professionally and personally – in fact, Frank also didn't know the purpose of the meeting, as he would have been sure to reprimand his father for prying into Jamie's business after having been so emphatic on Sunday. But Henry felt that there was a distinct difference between having one's business aired at the family table, and having a one-on-one conversation with, frankly, a much older and wiser authority figure. So he'd invited Jamie out to Bay Ridge to try to get a sense of where his grandson's head really was, outside of the formal trappings of Jamie's on-the-job interactions with his father and brother.

Jamie, for his part, was happy to go out to his grandfather's, though he didn't admit that to himself. His suspension meant that he was spending a lot of time alone at his apartment, especially since Eddie had gotten out of the hospital. She'd said he was welcome to come by anytime, but he felt a little strange spending extended periods of time with her in the comparatively intimate environment of her apartment. Since she'd been discharged five days prior, he hadn't been by at all, though they'd talked on the phone, Jamie's excuses about family commitments growing progressively flimsier. While the time off had allowed him to be productive around the apartment for about two days, he was getting on ten days of suspension, and he was feeling it. So the call from Henry had come at just the right time; Jamie was so eager to get out of the house and his own head that he agreed and made his way to Bay Ridge without any reservations as to his grandfather's motives.

When he arrived, he let himself in through the back door, coming into the kitchen. Not seeing his grandfather, he called out. "Pop?"

He heard a response coming from his grandfather's study. "In here!"

Jamie made his way to the front of the house to find his grandfather sitting in his favorite chair, with a bottle of scotch and two glasses resting on the table beside him. It was then that his suspicions began to grow. Henry had claimed that he'd just needed Jamie for a quick errand, but he looked like he was gearing up for a serious conversation. Jamie decided to play dumb. "So, what do you need me to do?"

Henry detected the evasiveness in Jamie's tone. "You in a rush or something? All that suspension means you've got no time to sit down for a drink with the old man?"

Jamie snorted. "No, course not. Just thought you'd want me to get it done."

"All in good time." Henry gestured to the chair beside him. "Have a seat. We haven't talked in a while."

At this point, Jamie resigned himself to his grandfather's prodding. Maybe he could get through this conversation without tipping off the old man to his actual feelings, and then Henry would be appeased and have good things to pass on to his father. He sighed and sat down, accepting the glass of scotch Henry held out to him. He took a sip and they sat there in silence for a moment.

"So," Henry opened. "How's your partner doing?"

Jamie looked over at him, a little incredulous at what was a lack of subtlety even for his notoriously blunt grandfather. Henry held up his hands. "What? She got out of the hospital this week, right? That's why you missed Sunday dinner?"

Jamie felt an odd rush of irritation at the implication that he had to have an excuse to do so. He tamped it down, though, not wanting to lose his cool. "Yeah, I was helping her get home. She's doing all right."

"You seen her since?"

That was an odd question. He wasn't sure what his grandfather was trying to figure out – did he think they were sleeping together? He decided to stick to the facts. "No, not since Sunday."

"Why not?"

"What?" This was not the line of questioning he'd been expecting. Conversations with Danny over the past week had led him to believe that the family's main concern was whether his relationship with Eddie crossed any platonic lines. But then, that was Danny – maybe he should have taken it with a grain of salt.

Henry continued unperturbed. "You're suspended, she's injured. You're both out of work for the time being. Why haven't you stopped by?"

"I don't – I haven't really thought about it. It's not like I'm avoiding her, I just – "

"But you are." Henry delivered this with the cadence of someone who was imparting supreme wisdom, but his grandson didn't see the deep meaning.

Jamie scoffed. "What are you talking about, Pop? Why would I be avoiding Eddie?"

Henry looked over at his grandson exasperatedly. "Oh, come on now."

" _What?_ What are you getting at? Because you know, I can take this from Danny, but – "

"I'm not trying to imply that you have feelings for Officer Janko." Henry's tone was suddenly solemn, almost rebuking. "Whether I think that or not, that's not the issue. But that's not why you're avoiding her."

At this point, Jamie decided to humor the old man. "It's not? Then please, enlighten me."

Henry narrowed his eyes. "Watch your tone with me. I may not be the boss anymore but I'm still your grandfather."

Jamie held up his hands. "Sorry."

His grandfather's eyes softened. "As I was saying. The reason that you've been avoiding Officer Janko –"

"Eddie."

"Eddie. The reason that you've been avoiding Eddie is that you're scared."

Jamie scoffed. "What do I have to be scared of? She's fine, isn't she?"

"She's fine, this time. But you, more than a lot of guys on the job, know that that's not always the case. You let yourself think that she was invincible as long as you had her back. But now that she's been hurt – even with you there to watch her back – you don't want to get close again. You're scared."

Jamie felt an unexpected sinking feeling as his grandfather began to scratch at the surface of a truth he hadn't really been able to admit to himself – at least not in the light of day.

"Am I wrong?" His grandfather sat back in the chair with his hands folded, almost seeming to relish Jamie's obvious discomfort.

Jamie snorted at the old man's reaction – but then, and maybe it was the whiskey or the sleep deprivation or just the buildup of emotion, he suddenly couldn't see the point of continuing to play it off. "You know, Gramps, sometimes your advice is pretty far off the mark, but once in a while you're right on target."

Henry hadn't honestly been expecting such a frank response, but he didn't reveal his surprise. Instead, he let out some of the sympathy that he'd been holding in in order to rally his stubborn grandson. "It's natural to do that. You know that since your mother died, your father hasn't had anything significant. But that's not because he hasn't met anyone – you remember that reporter – "

"Don't need to know."

"Sorry. Anyway, your father's met people. He's had opportunities. But he's too scared to let himself get close to another woman, because he doesn't want to go through that loss again."

Jamie shook his head. "Pop, Eddie and I are just friends."

"Oh, so you've said. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying, you're afraid to lose another partner after what happened at Bitterman, so you're avoiding Eddie. Is that about right?"

Jamie chuckled, shaking his head. "Honestly? Probably, on some level. But what the hell am I supposed to do about that?"

"Well, you can't change it. She's on the job, you're on the job. This stuff happens."

"Yeah, I _know_ that, Pop. That's the problem."

Henry folded his hands in front of him. "You have to learn to live with it."

Jamie threw up his hands in exasperation. "I wish it were that easy."

"Just think about it." With that, Henry eased himself out of the chair and left the room.

Jamie wasn't sure what to make of the conversation. His grandfather seemed to think that he'd hit the nail on the head, which perhaps he had, but he hadn't come out of the conversation with anything more than he'd already known. Maybe it was a leftover trapping of childhood, but there was some expectation that a conversation with his grandfather in those old upholstered chairs would come to some significant truth. But this had left Jamie feeling just as helpless as before. He shook his head as he stood up himself, carrying his empty glass into the kitchen to wash. The sight of his father sitting at the kitchen table in jeans and a sweater, working on his laptop, surprised him.

"Dad! I didn't know you were here!" Jamie immediately began replaying his conversation with Henry in his mind, trying to recall any particularly compromising details that might have slipped out. He was all too familiar with the thin wall between the kitchen and the study; as the nosy youngest child, he'd eavesdropped on his share of his siblings' parental scoldings while leaning against the wall by the pantry.

Frank looked up from his work as though surprised to see Jamie there, though they both knew that he'd known Jamie was at the house. "There he is! What brings you out here on a Friday night?"

Jamie shrugged, sliding into a seat at the countertop facing towards his father's chair. "Thought I was coming out here to help Pop around the house, but he really just wanted to give me unsolicited advice."

Frank chuckled. "That's your grandfather for you." He paused, trying to deduce how far to pry. "What was the advice about?"

Jamie glanced over at his father in an attempt to gauge how much he'd heard, but Frank's impassive expression gave nothing away. Part of him just wanted to unload on his father, consequences be damned, but the little voice in his mind that feared a shift in his partnership above all else told him not to let anything slip, or he might be unable to go back. "Just…you know Pop. He thought he'd figured out the secrets of life, but he was just telling me what I already know."

"What you already know about your partnership, you mean."

Jamie winced and closed his eyes. "You heard."

Frank nodded towards the entrance to the study. "These walls aren't exactly soundproof."

Jamie waited, expecting some fatherly weigh-in or at least a reproach for what had been said, but Frank offered nothing. He felt an urge to explain himself. "Look, Dad, there's nothing going on between me and Eddie. You need to know that."

"I know."

"It's just – it would have happened with anyone. Seeing her like that – I don't know. It was like Vinny all over again."

"Except that she lived."

Jamie bowed his head. "I know. I know she lived. But it's sort of hard to process that, you know? Like, I know she's okay, but also…all I can think about is her bleeding out in the street. It's like – now that it happened once, I feel like it's gonna happen again. And I can't do anything about it."

Frank was silent for a moment, until Jamie looked up at him as though searching for an answer. "You know, her getting shot is no more or less likely now than it was two weeks ago. Just because it happened once doesn't mean that it will happen again. And frankly, this is not what you want to hear, but there was never anything you could have done about it."

Jamie shook his head at that. "I _could_ have done something about it. It's not, like, cosmically ordained that she _had_ to get shot. If I'd done something differently, if I'd gone back there with her, maybe she wouldn't have gotten shot."

"Right. Or maybe, she'd be dead. Or you'd be dead, or the rookie who you'd have left all alone on the scene would be dead. You did what you were trained to do. It's an imperfect system, but you followed your instincts and you did everything that you should have done."

Jamie shifted his gaze away from his father's probing one. Frank smiled slightly. "That is, until you left the scene of a shooting without notifying your command. _That_ was not what you should have done."

Jamie looked up at his father and cracked a small smile. "I really am sorry about that."

His father nodded. "I know you are."

"I still don't know what to do."

Frank chuckled a little before answering. "You remember the inspector general from a few years ago?"

That was a nonsequitur Jamie hadn't expected. "Yeah – Kelly Peterson, right? What about her?"

"Do you remember why she resigned?"

Jamie shook his head, chuckling. "Wasn't it some crap about 'not enough professional animosity towards the department'?"

Frank nodded. "I dated her for six months after that."

Jamie's head snapped up. "You _what_?"

"We ended things after she got a job in Santa Monica. I'm too old for long distance."

Jamie sat there stunned for a minute at this revelation, before realizing why it had been brought up. "You _have_ dated. Grandpa didn't know?"

"Well, half the town hasn't found out about it, so no, he didn't know."

"Damn. Guess I have no excuse, then, huh?"

Frank shrugged. "Guess not."

Jamie nodded contemplatively. "All right."

* * *

A/N: Back with another chapter! I'm sorry for the long wait, I've had a crazy couple of weeks and then the premiere really threw me for a loop (although it inspired a new story that I'm working on.) This is actually part one of this chapter, I have the whole thing about 3/4 written and it's getting really long so I decided to break it up, which is why this isn't super action packed. This has been giving me hell editing-wise for some reason, so I apologize if it's not the greatest quality. But hopefully the next chapter will be up in the next few days (which will have more of Jamko).

Also, about Frank: I've always had this little headcanon that he dated the Inspector General, it's probably not true in the show but...I shipped it. So I threw it in.

Hope you enjoyed the update, and if you have any feedback, please drop a review!


	9. Heart to Heart (Part 2)

Sitting in her apartment that week, Eddie had probably spent a solid hour on each individual channel as she flicked through the TV. She'd thought she was going to use the week to do all the things she never had time to do when she was working – see friends, go clothes shopping, call her mom. But the combination of physical pain and emotional exhaustion meant that she'd spent most of the last five days sitting around her apartment watching TV. Which was probably not helping her mental state – but that was a vicious cycle.

When she'd told Jamie to stop by any time after he'd dropped her off at home, she'd expected to see him. Maybe not as often as she'd really have liked, but at this point it was basically unheard of for them to go a week without seeing each other at all. Even when they'd been temporarily reassigned for various reasons, they usually found their way to each other after shift almost every night, even just to touch base in the precinct before going their separate ways. It wasn't really a concerted effort, it just happened. So she hadn't expected to be avoided by him for the last five days, with only a phone call here and there. But when she thought about it, she wasn't really surprised.

Riding together for as long as they had, and seeing as much shit on the job as they did, they knew each other's coping mechanisms. She usually started out stony, letting all the emotion build up inside until it inevitably exploded out all over the place – which had even happened to some extent in her confession of feelings a few months before. Jamie was like her in that he let all his emotions build up in him, but somehow, he never really let them burst out. Maybe it was a guy thing or just a Reagan thing, but somehow getting him to acknowledge how he was feeling was like pulling teeth. So she'd learned to read what he wasn't saying – she had to, if she ever wanted to get anywhere with him. And what she'd gotten from him this week at the hospital was not encouraging.

He'd been overprotective of her for a while – she always called to mind her first day off probation, when he'd tackled a guy who'd hit her and been reprimanded by Renzulli. And despite (or perhaps because of) his reluctance to talk about it, she knew that his last partner's death had taken a lot out of him, so she could understand why this incident would have thrown him for a loop. But this was the fundamental difference between the two of them – if their situations had been reversed, she didn't know how she'd have gotten through the past ten days without talking to him about it, or airing her feelings somehow to hopefully take away some of their intensity. For him, though, it was natural to regress into himself, as though by doing so he could pretend the feelings, whatever they were, weren't there. She found it a little bit infuriating, but had decided to give him some leeway this time. For what she also knew about Jamie Reagan was that he usually did come around. It took a lot of time and sometimes a lot of effort, but usually even her stoic partner would have to let something out. She just didn't know what form that would take this time, or what it would entail for their partnership.

There might have been a small, messed up part of her that hoped that this would shake Jamie out of his idea that the only way she could stay safe on the streets was through him having her back - maybe even make him reconsider some of the decisions he'd made a few months back. But she would never have admitted that to anyone. Frankly, she hated herself a little bit for thinking it. Deep down, there was a part of her that a few months ago had wanted to just transfer out of the twelfth – force his hand, in a sense. But the larger voice of reason in her head that was afraid of shaking the delicate balance they'd worked out tended to win out over her impulsivity.

So when Jamie chose to avoid her, she let him. Not wanting to scare him off by being too forward, she chatted lightly to him on the phone and pretended not to see through his paper-thin excuses. Her hope was that once they were forced to see each other at work they'd be able to go back to normal. So she sat around at home and watched old reruns of Grey's Anatomy, hoping the sordid TV love affairs would turn her mind off of romance for a while.

A knock on the door startled her, and she snapped off the TV. Her buzzer hadn't gone off, so whoever this was must have snuck up with another resident, or else have the wrong address. She got up slowly, wincing in pain, and undid the deadbolt, preparing to turn away a lost delivery worker with a drunk neighbor's late-night Chinese food binge. When she opened the door, though, the person standing there laden with bags of takeout wasn't a skinny teenage boy, but her partner, leaning against her doorway and looking rather drained.

"Jamie?" He looked up when she said his name and stood up straighter, a tight smile working onto his face. She swung the door wider. "Want to come in?"

He nodded wordlessly, following her inside and swinging the door shut behind him before setting the bags down on the counter and turning back to her. They looked at each other for a moment and she felt this ridiculous urge to go hug him. She smiled up at him instead. "How are you?"

He seemed to be startled by the question, as though even though he was in her apartment he hadn't realized she was there. "I'm good. I'm good. How are _you_? How's the wing?"

"It's all right." When he didn't respond, she tacked on more to the sentence. "I'm starting physical therapy tomorrow, which might be good. But you know, I've sort of just been sitting around, so it might be a bitch to get back into moving it. Guess I have to, though, can't go back on patrol with a bum arm." She felt herself starting to ramble and trailed off, looking up at him expectantly.

He nodded at her absently. "Yeah, that's good."

She looked up at him concernedly. He'd come over to her place, ostensibly to, you know, _hang out_ with her, but now he was there and didn't seem to even realize she was talking to him. "Jamie. You okay?"

At that, he focused in on her. "Huh? Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? You seem a little…out of it."

He snorted. "Yeah, well. I was just up at my grandpa's and he busted out his good scotch. Not like I'm working any time soon, so I might've had a few more than usual."

She looked at him skeptically. Over the last four years, she'd gotten to know drunk Jamie very well, and this was not drunk Jamie. But she played along. "Yeah? You drive yourself over, boy scout?"

He rolled his eyes. "I took a cab, thanks, Mom."

She winced in mock betrayal. "Ouch, mom-zoned. That's harsh, Reagan."

It was a bad joke, sure, but she didn't think it warranted the look of – almost _pain_ that shot across his face. "Sorry," he responded, forcing a chuckle but not meeting her eyes.

She looked up at him for a moment before shaking her head and stepping towards the counter. "Wanna eat? Did you bring anything good?"

"Sure." His response was affirmative, but he made no move to help her unload the food from the bags, instead just standing there in his spot as though he was anchored to the floor. She placed down one of the takeout containers with a thud and turned back to him.

"Jesus, Reagan. What is going on with you?" Her outburst wasn't angry, exactly, but it was emphatic enough that he took a step back.

"What do you – "

"You've been avoiding me all week. You're dodging my calls, and when you do pick up you're all full of excuses about how you're just _sooo busy_ , because I know how being _suspended_ really takes up so much time." Her tone took on a decided edge of sarcasm here before sliding back into concern. "And now you come over here at ten o'clock at night without calling or anything, which is fine, by the way, but now you're here and you're acting like you don't even hear me! What gives? And don't tell me nothing's going on, Jamie. Because we both know that's bull."

When she finished, she realized she'd been stepping closer to him throughout her tirade. He had backed up almost unconsciously in response, so that he was now leaning against the counter and she was about a foot away from him. He looked up at the ceiling, then fixed his eyes on a point just past her head, as though looking at her would completely derail whatever control he had.

From her vantage point, she could see his face working, as though he was trying to prevent whatever he was feeling from revealing itself in his expression. Something about watching him trying to contain himself softened her a little. "Look, Jamie. I know this whole thing – ", she used her good hand to gesture towards her sling, "has freaked you out. I can't even imagine how you must've felt. But don't do _this_. Don't go all dark and twisty."

He forced his eyes over to hers at that and furrowed his brow. "Dark and twisty?"

She shook her head. "Just, you know. Don't get all caught up in your head. You can _talk_ to me about this stuff."

He nodded, biting his lip. "I know. And I appreciate that."

She looked up at him as though more was forthcoming. When he didn't speak, she decided to pry a little more. "Look, you don't have to. But I can't imagine you just came over to bring me Chinese food at ten PM. So if you _want_ to talk about it, I got nowhere to be." As though to emphasize her point, she grabbed one of the Chinese food containers and a fork and sat down on the couch, trying to pry the lid off with one hand without spilling it all over herself.

He watched her wrestle for a moment, then took pity on her, sitting down and popping the lid off before handing the container back to her, a wry smile creeping onto his face. She rolled her eyes at his amused expression. "Thanks."

He nodded. "Don't mention it."

He watched her eat for a moment before she looked back over at him. She didn't even need to say anything this time, just quirked an eyebrow at him. He looked away like a kid who'd been reminded of a chore he'd hoped had been forgotten. "Alright, alright. Just…give me a second."

She nodded and patted his arm, studiously looking away as though to give him privacy to think. When he started to speak, she made an effort not to look back at him, not wanting to make him feel put on the spot.

"I never expected you, Eddie."

Despite all her efforts to the contrary, the ambiguity of his statement made her look back. He was looking down at his lap, but she could tell he was intently aware of her movements. She really had intended on this going down without any prodding from her, but when a minute passed by without any further explanation, she had to ask. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Before, I always liked who I was riding with – I mean, eventually. But it was never, like, they were that _important_ to me." He shook his head. "That's not right. I mean, whoever's your partner, that's pretty important, and that was always true. But it was like – if we hadn't been riding together, I probably would never have crossed paths with them, you know?"

He looked up at her as though for confirmation, and she nodded. "I hate to break it to you, Reagan, but we're pretty different."

He snorted. "I know. I know that. Just – it's different, somehow, with you. You're – you're not just my partner. You're my best friend. I never really had that with anyone I rode with before, you know? Not until you."

He'd stopped looking at her by then, in some kind of attempt to salvage his last shreds of emotional restraint, but at that point it didn't matter. Hearing his words had snapped her back to that night a few months ago when she'd stopped by his place out of the blue in much the same manner.

 _You're the best person I think I've ever met, and you're the best friend that I've ever had.  
I know that you're my partner, and I don't want to do anything to screw that up. I just want you to know that you're so much more than that. _

Was _that_ what this was? Had her getting shot done to Jamie what Tara had done to her? She stared down at the floor, her mind spinning.

"You with me?" Jamie's voice had shifted to gentle concern, and his hand on her good arm jolted her back to reality. She looked up at him and saw his face full of pure confusion and friendly concern, and mentally cursed herself. It said something about the state of her own mind, she thought, that his declaration of platonic friendship for her had her going down this rabbit hole of romantic delusions. She forced a smile back to her face.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm listening." Realizing that he'd just opened up more than he probably did in the average month, and that she couldn't reasonably be annoyed at him for not living up to the conclusions she'd jumped to, she felt she should give him a little more. "And you know that's all true for me too. I've told you that."

He nodded, having the grace at least not to acknowledge the circumstances under which she'd told him that. "Eddie, you – you're my best friend. And my partner. And seeing you like that, bleeding like that in the street – that really got in my head."

She nodded. "Mine too."

He half-smiled at that before shifting tack. "You know, after…what happened with Vinny, I got scared. When Renzulli first put me with you, I didn't think I could do it. I didn't think I could handle being – in charge of you."

" _In charge_ of me?" She narrowed her eyes in mock irritation.

He laughed, caught between being annoyed and grateful that she'd broken the moment. "That's not – you know what I mean. I didn't think I was ready to be _responsible_ for a rookie." She gave him a grudging nod. His voice shifted to seriousness. "Frankly, at that point I didn't know if I was cut out for the job at all."

She'd intended to stop interrupting, but she couldn't control herself at that. "It wasn't your fault, Jamie. You're a great cop."

He closed his eyes and nodded. "I know. But at the time, I felt like there was something I could have done to – prevent it from happening, or something." He saw her shaking her head sympathetically and hastened to add on. "I know, I know there wasn't. But it really felt that way."

She shook her head. "Catholic guilt. I'm telling you." Her tone was light, but when she met his eyes a silent understanding passed between them.

He scrubbed a hand over his face before he continued. "So something like this happening – like you getting shot – that was like, my biggest fear. That one day I'd have to watch you bleed out in the street, and not be able to do anything about it. I thought about it, all the time. And that was right when I met you, even before – " He stopped there, shaking his head. She'd heard him struggle to keep his voice from breaking as he spoke, and she resisted the urge to reach for him.

"Before what?" She kept her voice soft, not wanting to seem like she was prodding too much.

He looked away from her and up at the ceiling before meeting her eyes again. "Before – before I got to know you. Before we became friends." He saw her face fall imperceptibly at that and added on. "The thought of losing a partner scared the crap out of me, and then it became the fear of losing _you_ , and that was worse. And I think all that sort of snowballed this week and it ended up with me ignoring you, which was – not the right way to handle it. So I'm sorry."

There was genuine guilt on his face and he was almost avoiding her eyes. Impulsively, she reached over and took his hand. "You don't have to apologize. For any of it." He knew that she meant the shooting, too, and felt a rush of gratitude to her for reading him so well. "I get where you're coming from, Jamie. This is what you do – you get scared and you push people away, and I get it. Just – you can't do that to me."

He nodded, closing his eyes. "I know. I don't want to. It just happens."

"I know."

They sat there in silence for a moment, Eddie's forgotten Chinese food container resting on her lap as her good hand was still intertwined with Jamie's. After a minute, he slid his fingers out from between hers and moved to stand. "I should go."

She moved the container to the coffee table and stood up with him. "It's late, Jamie. You don't have to." She knew he wouldn't stay – after any kind of personal confession he usually needed to go off by himself for a while – but she figured it couldn't hurt to try.

He shook his head. "I should let you get some rest. You've got a big day tomorrow – PT's no joke." He grinned at her and she smiled back involuntarily. They stood there looking at each other for a moment; for all Jamie'd said he had to go, he didn't seem too eager to do so.

She looked up at him, not wanting to rush him by any means but also wondering if it was something he'd left unsaid that had him frozen there. "Everything alright?"

He nodded, meeting her eyes, before stepping closer and pulling her into his arms in one fluid motion. She was startled at first, and stiffened, but once she realized what he needed she relaxed into him, wrapping her good arm around him. Her forehead rested against his chest and she could feel his heart racing as he rested his chin on the top of her head. As they stood there, she could feel his breathing slow and match the pace of hers, and it struck her that even with their history this was one of the more intimate moments they'd had. She felt herself starting to relax as well – she hadn't realized how worried she'd been about him until just now, when having him finally here and honest made her feel as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders.

They stood there holding each other for a moment until she felt Jamie start to pull away. She'd known they couldn't stay there forever, of course, and she'd also known that he'd be the one to let her go – that was just how these things went between them. It was reluctantly, though, that she released him and stepped back. She saw it as encouraging that he didn't refuse to make eye contact with her after they let each other go; instead, he smiled at her and squeezed her arm affectionately. "Good night, partner."

"Good night, Jamie." She followed him to the door and watched him as he stepped outside, turning back to give her a nod and a wave. Then she swung the door shut behind her, though part of her had wanted to wait to go back inside till he'd gotten on the elevator. After swinging the door shut and fastening the deadbolt, she crossed the apartment to the window that looked out to the front of the building and adjusted the blinds so that she could see out. It only took a moment before she saw him come out of the building, walking up to the curb and standing there for a few moments before hailing a cab that approached – nothing short of a miracle, on her street at this hour. As he swung open the door to the taxi, he cast a look back up to her window. She knew she should duck away – it was definitely weird for her to be watching him like this – but she stood there frozen. He didn't seem to see her, but she saw a grin flash across his face before he turned away and climbed into the cab.

* * *

A/N: Here we have the second heart-to-heart (and the one people actually wanted to see!). Hope this has helped to satisfy some of the loose ends from the last few chapters.

I think that the next chapter will be the last - if it ends up being really long I may split it into two but the story is almost over. That should hopefully be up sometime in the next week.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!


	10. Normal

It was six AM of his third day off suspension, and Jamie was thoroughly done with desk duty. He'd always hated it before when he'd had to do it during the day, but at night it was so much worse. The only people calling the precinct were either doing so as a prank or very drunk – or both. So he was glad to be finished with his shift and headed home, and if he was walking through the precinct a little more quickly and determinedly than was strictly necessary, well, who could blame him.

"Wait up!"

He heard the shout, but didn't turn around. The first shift officers were straggling in for roll call, and he chose to believe that the call was directed at one of them.

"Hey, Reagan! Wait!"

 _Damn._ Jamie turned around when he heard his name called to see one of his colleagues, Sarah Knight, jogging up behind him. Sarah had gone through the Academy with Eddie before being placed at the 35th, which had ended with her marrying her TO and transferring out. Jamie'd only met her a few months before and frankly found her a bit too much, but she and Eddie got along well. He didn't really have a _problem_ with her per se, but she wasn't someone he wanted to talk to on three hours of sleep and an almost-worn-off caffeine buzz. But his unrelenting politeness made him stop and plaster on a grin. "Hey, Sarah. How's it going?"

She stopped about two feet away from him and grinned back. "Great! How about yourself?"

"I'm – "

"How's Eddie? Because you know, I talked to her last night and she said she got cleared to come back on modified starting next Monday. Did you hear?"

He hadn't heard, and was frankly a little miffed that she hadn't called him before realizing that he'd probably been on shift already. _Damn night shifts_. "No, that's great. She's been dying to come back."

Sarah nodded. "I know! That's why I had this idea."

She seemed entirely too chipper for six in the morning, almost reminding him of Eddie except that Eddie was decidedly _not_ a morning person. Jamie was a little hesitant to ask her what the idea was, as Sarah was sort of infamous for her surprise parties and random pranks in the precinct. But as it turned out he didn't need to ask.

"I was thinking. What if we – like you, me, some of the others – just threw a little party for Eddie on Monday night?"

He furrowed his brow. "I don't know. I mean, it'll be her first day back at work in like, three weeks. Maybe we should try to keep it low-key."

"I know! I said a _little_ party, nothing crazy. Just a few of us from the twelfth. We could get that back room at McCready's – you know, that old sergeant with a bar on Mercer? I bet he'd give us a discount. Ooh, and we could get a cake!"

Jamie snorted. "A cake? Like, 'congrats on not dying, here's some dessert'?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes at him. " _Ohh-_ kay. I guess I caught you on the wrong end of a midnight. We'll talk later. Just think about it!" With that, she jogged past him and down the hall to the women's locker room. Jamie watched her go with a chuckle, knowing that whatever his objections might be, there _would_ be a party next Monday night. And a cake. He guessed that was why Eddie and Sarah got along so well – they both had this ability to just announce their ideas as fact and make things happen. Honestly, though, it was probably a good idea, as long as he could convince Sarah to keep it sufficiently low-key. He would've hated something like this, but he knew Eddie would probably love it. And frankly, he was going to be glad to have her back at work. Unfortunately, their desk time wouldn't overlap, as by next week his punishment would be over and he'd be restored to full duty, but he missed seeing her around the precinct every day. So celebrating her return might not be the worst thing in the world.

* * *

That Monday morning was probably the first time ever that Eddie had welcomed the sound of her five AM alarm. More than just welcomed it, actually – she'd gotten out of bed without hitting snooze even once, which was practically unheard of. Sure, she was going to be playing desk jockey for the next couple of weeks, answering phones and trying not to curse out any civilians, but somehow she was aching just to walk back into the precinct. These past few weeks had felt like a vacation from her life – one that had she been asked before she might have thought she'd appreciate, but now that she'd lived it she was dying to go back to the grind.

Since getting out of the hospital, she'd had a lot of time to think about the risks she was taking on the job. What she'd told Jamie had been true – they were all supposed to be willing to die for this job, but lying there in that alley she'd had a moment of doubt, or regret, or something that had made her wish for a second that she'd gone into freaking finance or real estate. Something where the days were long and hellish and boring and _safe_. To be honest, the doubts still lingered, to some extent. She figured they probably would for a while. But she did love the job, which made it easier for her to push her fears to the side for now and just be happy that she was able to go back at all.

Besides, her physical therapist had told her that she would probably be on modified for around six weeks, which was probably going to drive her insane anyway before she ever had the chance to return to full duty, or so she grumbled good-naturedly to Sarah in the locker room as she wrestled her uniform top on over her injured shoulder.

Her colleague laughed. "Oh, it's not so bad! At least you're not freezing your ass off on foot patrol while your misogynist partner rants to you about how he can't get a Tinder date."

Eddie winced sympathetically. " _That_ is a problem I don't have with Reagan."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "You lucked out _pretty_ well with Reagan. He's cute _and_ doesn't eat tuna in the patrol car."

Eddie laughed. "Damn, Jacobs really sounds like the full package."

"Girl, you don't even know."

They were interrupted by a tapping on the door of the locker room. Eddie looked over at Sarah questioningly, then walked over and swung the door open. She was met by her partner leaning against the doorframe.

"Déjà vu, Reagan."

He chuckled. "Hey, partner."

Sarah came up from behind Eddie. "I'll give you two a minute. Good to see you, Jamie." She winked at him before stepping between the partners and out into the hallway, a gesture that was not lost on Eddie.

She turned back to Jamie with an eyebrow quirked. "Wow, I must've missed a lot if you two are buddies now."

He snorted. "I wouldn't say _that._ More like…we found common ground."

She knocked him on the arm playfully. "Oh, you're sweet." She laughed as a blush started to creep up his face.

"Shut _up_ , Janko."

"You're just too fun to mess with."

He sighed and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "And here I was about to say it was good to have you back."

She grinned at him before gently pushing him out of the doorway and into the hallway. "Get outta here. You don't want to be late for roll call on your first day back out of the doghouse."

He chuckled and shook his head at her as he strode away down the hallway.

* * *

A/N: So this is not the last chapter after all! The ending of this story is taking longer than I expected, but I think the next chapter will be the last (for real this time). Sorry that this one is sort of filler, the next one will be much more interesting. Thanks for reading!


	11. Inevitable

Jamie was partnered for the day with Laura Martinez, the same rookie who'd responded to the robbery call with them, as her TO finished out his own modified duty. He was initially happy to be riding with her – she seemed like she had a good head on her shoulders, and besides, out of all the free agents at the precinct she was about the only non-jackass. But by the time they'd reached the sixth hour of their tour having exchanged probably six sentences the entire time, it was getting old. He didn't know if the rookie was quiet because of what had happened with the shooting, or if it was just her personality around a senior officer, but not being small-talk-inclined himself made the silence almost painful. Coupled with the fact that it was a relatively slow tour, Jamie was really missing the ease of conversation that he had with Eddie.

He glanced over at Martinez where she sat in the passenger seat twiddling with her phone. She noticed him staring at her and gave him a small smile. Bolstered by the sign that she at least didn't hate him, Jamie decided to bring up the elephant in the room – or the car, as it was. "Look, I want to apologize for what happened a couple weeks ago."

She put the phone down on the seat beside her and furrowed her brow. "For what?"

"For leaving the scene like that. For encouraging you to leave like that. It was unprofessional and as the senior officer I should've known better. And I don't know what kind of a rip you caught – "

"I didn't get a rip." He stopped in his tracks and looked at her quizzically. She shook her head. "Sarge was kind of weird about it, actually. He pulled me aside and told me not to do it again, but he didn't seem that pissed off. I was expecting him to suspend me or put me on a desk or something, but nothing happened."

Jamie snorted. "Yeah, I think I got the brunt of it." Seeing concern flash across the rookie's face he hastened to add on, "As I should have."

She nodded understandingly. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine." They lapsed into silence for a moment.

"Why'd you do it?" Her question caught him off guard.

"Why'd I – "

"Why'd you leave the scene if you knew? It's not like we could have done anything."

Jamie sighed. He'd asked himself the same thing in the days following the shooting, and had yet to come up with an answer that he could voice to himself. "I don't know."

She nodded, clearly feeling like she might've crossed a line in questioning him and not wanting to pry further. But somehow Jamie felt like he owed this woman something – after all, he'd basically hijacked her from a scene and had her do something that, had Renzulli not been so tremendously understanding of the situation, could well have gotten her in serious trouble. And somehow verbalizing this stuff to a rookie who was clearly too intimidated by his authority to ever repeat any of it was liberating. "I think I just felt like I couldn't sit there and do nothing. You know? Like, in that moment, when all that was going down, I knew the rules. I knew what I was supposed to do, and I knew what the consequences could be. I just didn't care."

For a moment he thought he'd gone too far, especially considering the fact that Martinez already probably had doubts about his mental state after sitting with him in the ER. But he looked over to see her nodding. "I get that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I do. Um…my girlfriend, she had cancer – she's doing okay now, but last year she was pretty sick. And that was while I was in the academy, and I had this exam, it was some community policing thing. But then the hospital called me, and it wasn't even that urgent, they just had some test result or something, and I knew if I missed the exam I'd have to redo the whole course, but I just – said _screw it_. I took off. And then it ended up being nothing, so…" She trailed off. "That's not really the same thing, I guess."

Jamie shook his head, chuckling slightly. "I guess it sort of is."

The rookie's eyes widened as she looked over at him.

He hurried to backtrack. "No – Eddie and I, we're not – it's not like that. It's complicated."

She grinned. "Oh, _it's complicated_. I've heard that one before."

He shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. Really, it's not." He narrowed his eyes at her amusedly. "That would be against the rules."

She raised her eyebrows. "I know you've got a reputation as the golden boy around here, Reagan, but I gotta say I'm not seeing it."

"Hey, I may not be Patterson but I'm still your TO for now. Watch it, rookie."

She laughed and drew her hand up to her forehead in a mock salute. "Copy that."

* * *

After an interminable eight hours answering phones and filing other people's reports, Eddie was entirely ready to go home. As she wrestled to pull the top she'd worn in that morning on over her sling, all she wanted was to go home, order takeout, and vegetate in front of the TV. She wasn't an introvert by any stretch, but after spending the entire day talking to what felt like every moron in Manhattan, she thought she could understand how Jamie felt after she would drag him to three bars in an evening on some Friday nights. She heard the door swing open behind her, but didn't turn around.

"Hey, Janko! How was the first day back?" Sarah's voice was absurdly perky and Eddie felt an irrational rush of annoyance. She turned to her colleague and wrinkled her nose.

"Ugh. Don't ask."

"That bad?"

"Worse. One guy called, wasted out of his mind, because his girlfriend cheated on him with his boss."

"Geez. What'd he want you to do?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Sarah chuckled. "Hey, you can't drive with the sling on, right?" Eddie shook her head curtly. "How you getting home?"

"Bus, probably."

Sarah scoffed. "You're not taking the bus all the way to your place."

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Get Reagan to drive you. He has a car, right?"

Eddie rolled her eyes. "Reagan lives in Brooklyn Heights. My place is like, nowhere close to on his way."

"Oh, as if he cares. He'd drive you to Jersey after tour every day if you asked him."

Eddie sighed. "Not now."

"I said nothing. Just – don't be stubborn. Let him help you out." With that, her colleague strode away, swinging the door shut behind her. Eddie shook her head incredulously – in all that unsolicited commentary, her friend hadn't even bothered to get changed. She did have a point, though. At the very least, she was sure Jamie would give her a lift to the bus stop, which would be nice considering the fact that it was about twenty degrees out and the streets were icy as all hell.

She walked out of the locker room to find Jamie leaning against the wall outside, as though he'd known she'd be looking for him. As she approached him, he looked up from his phone and scrunched up his face sympathetically. "How was tour?"

She shook her head and leaned against the wall beside him.

He nodded. "Yeah, don't miss it."

She shot him a glare. "Way to rub it in."

"Sorry."

"Who'd you end up with today?"

"Martinez."

She couldn't immediately place the name, but when she did, she looked up at him incredulously. "How was _that_?"

He stifled a grin. "Pretty good, considering. She's not bad for a rookie."

Eddie raised her eyebrows, masking the pang of actual jealousy that his words sent through her with an exaggerated version. "Should I be _worried_ , Reagan?"

Jamie looked down at her, cracking an amused smile. She chafed under the realization that her jealousy hadn't been as well-hidden as she'd hoped. He shook his head. "She's a good kid, but she barely said four words all tour. I think I started hallucinating conversations with you in my head by the end of it. Believe me, you got nothing to worry about."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously for a moment. "Good. I have to say, though, sitting in silence for eight hours sounds _pretty_ good right about now." She shook her head. "Which reminds me – you think you could give me a lift to the bus stop over on Sixth?"

He nodded. "Yeah, of course. How about I just take you home?"

"No, that's too far out of your way and the roads are crap."

"You shouldn't take the bus with your shoulder."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Because this line is _so_ crowded at this time of night? Jamie, I'll be fine."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Janko, just take the offer."

Eddie looked up at him thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Only because I value your peace of mind."

"Janko, you're like, the single biggest drain on my peace of mind – "

She grinned. "But you love it."

He shook his head and slung an arm around her shoulder. "All right. Let's just go before I change my mind."

* * *

They were only a few blocks from the precinct when Jamie suddenly pulled to the side of the road and slid the car into park. Eddie looked over at him quizzically from the passenger seat. "You okay?"

He nodded and looked over at her. "Don't be pissed."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why would I be pissed?"

He shook his head and broke eye contact, staring out the front windshield. "I realize now looking back that it was a bad idea – actually, _I_ thought it was a bad idea from the get-go, but –"

"Jamie! What did you do?"

He looked back over at her apologetically. "Right now Sarah and a bunch of the others are over at McCready's waiting for us. For you, really. She wanted to have a party for your first day back and somehow she roped me in to take you over there."

Eddie's mouth dropped. "She set this up! She came in to the locker room while I was changing and she was all, 'Oh, you can't take the bus, get Reagan to give you a ride'! And I fell for it. Damn."

Jamie winced. "We don't have to go if you don't want. I can text her now and tell her – I don't know, you were too tired or something, or I forgot."

She reached over to the driver's side and put a hand on his arm. "Jamie, relax. It's fine."

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. "It's fine?"

"Yeah, it's not a big deal. It's sweet of her. We can head over there."

"I thought you wanted to go sit in silence for eight hours."

She sighed. "Okay, in retrospect, I'd be bored as hell. I need to talk to intelligent people."

He studied her face for a moment, and finding her genuine, grinned. "Well, we could just go out, if that's what you want."

She rolled her eyes. "Screw you."

He laughed. "Too easy." He flipped on the turn signal before glancing over at her. "You sure? They'd totally understand if you're not up for this."

She nodded. "Who am I to turn down free drinks?"

He nodded acquiescently before switching the car back into drive and pulling away from the curb.

* * *

Arriving at the bar, Jamie wondered facetiously if Sarah had really gone all out on the invite list. There was usually street parking in this area on weeknights, but tonight the streets immediately around McCready's were crammed with parked cars that, had he been on traffic patrol, would have kept him busy for the entire evening. He circled the area a few times, going progressively further from the bar until he finally pulled into an open spot around five blocks away. He glanced over at Eddie in the passenger seat. "Up for a walk?"

"Sure."

He sighed. "It's not too late to back out of this, you know."

She grinned at him. "You're not getting off that easy, Reagan." He rolled his eyes before getting out and coming around to swing open the door on her side. She patted his arm as she stepped out of the car. "Such a gentleman."

"Yeah, yeah." She detected a faint blush on his face, as though he was embarrassed to be caught in the act of doing something chivalrous for her. "Let's go, Janko. Longer you keep them waiting, more boozed up they'll be when we get there."

She laughed, shaking her head, as they made their way down the block. "You know, partner, I'm beginning to think you're trying to convince me to blow off this party because _you_ don't want to go."

He chuckled. "You should've made detective a long time ago."

"Yeah, well. We knew that already." She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. "But you should be glad I'm still on the beat. What would you even do without me?"

"You know, I got through like thirty years of my life without you, Janko. Don't get a big head."

She linked her arm through his. "That's just because you hadn't met me yet. Now you could never go back. You're hooked." She didn't know what was making her so bold – she couldn't blame it on the alcohol this time, since she hadn't had anything to drink. But somehow, walking down the street with him at night in their civilian clothes, she couldn't hold herself back.

Their linked arms meant that she was stopped in her tracks when he stopped walking. She turned to him curiously. He looked down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?" Her tone was light, but she felt a twinge of nervousness. Their usually delicate dynamic had been even more precarious than usual lately, and she worried for a moment that she'd pushed him too far.

He studied her face for a moment before cracking a small smile. "So just to be clear. Are you saying you've _spoiled me for life_?"

She felt a grin breaking across her face and fought to contain it. "I guess you could say that." She wasn't sure what he was getting at here, but didn't want to ask.

He shifted his hand further back on her good arm, pulling her closer to him. "Guess I could." He wasn't making eye contact with her anymore; his gaze had shifted over her head and his eyes were contemplative.

She exhaled softly and leaned back, pursing her lips as though steeling herself. "I know."

He quirked a brow at her. "Know what?"

"What you're thinking. _Eddie, we've been down this road before_." She deepened her voice in a poor imitation of his. " _It's a bad idea – for a lot of reasons_."

Jamie winced, still holding her elbow to keep her close. "Am I really that predictable?" She nodded solemnly. "Damn."

She gave a half-shrug. "It's starting to lose its sting." She chuckled self-consciously as she spoke, but there was a layer of something unmistakably sadder in her tone.

He puffed out a breath. "Eddie, I don't mean – "

"It's fine, Jamie." Her tone was sharper than she'd intended. She softened as she continued. "I don't expect anything." His brows drew together doubtfully. She rolled her eyes. "I'm serious, Reagan. I shouldn't have said that. Let's just go and have a good time." She tugged her arm free and took a few steps along the sidewalk before turning back to him with a quizzical look. "Coming?"

He shook his head as if to clear it before falling into step with her towards their waiting friends.

* * *

Jamie wasn't the most natural partygoer, but usually he at least tried to avoid playing wallflower all night. Granted, Eddie was usually a big part of the reason why, with her insistence on dragging him into conversations or, occasionally, onto the dance floor. Tonight, though, she was the woman of the hour, being surrounded by friends and well-wishers from the precinct dying for updates on her condition. He was always sort of amazed at how many connections she had within their house; while he had casual friends in the precinct, their relationships didn't really extend beyond hellos. Eddie was really one of the only ones that he'd call up just to hang out, or talk to about anything deeper than weather or football. Given the fact that he was her partner and he had the whole sordid suspension story, he could probably have soaked up some of her spotlight had he wanted to. But tonight, his natural instinct to sit against the wall with a drink was winning out. So as Eddie socialized, looking like she was having a lot more fun than he'd have expected given her earlier hatred of the world at large, he sat by the bar, trying not to watch her as he turned his beer around and around on the counter.

What she'd said on the walk over had bothered him more than he'd let her know. He didn't really feel that he had any kind of right to express that to her, though – everything she'd said was true, pretty much down to the words that he'd been about to say. It was undoubtedly hard to balance the conflicting instincts he felt every time he looked at her: on the one hand, his 'boy-scout' nature wanted to adhere strictly to the rules of the patrol guide and of their partnership. But the part of him that just wanted to say _to hell_ with the rules and give in to every suppressed emotion also liked to make itself known. She tended to get the short end of the stick with that, unfortunately. He knew he was guilty of starting things that he had no intention of finishing.

What he couldn't quite figure out, though, was _why_ the thought of finishing what he started was so terrifying to him. If it was just nerves, just a fear of looking like an idiot, he'd be able to understand. But even that was something he rarely felt around Eddie, not because she wouldn't tease the life out of him but because he knew that no matter how big of a fool he made of himself she'd never actually let it change her opinion of him. And recent events had proved that where she was concerned, he had no problem abandoning the patrol guide. So this had to be something bigger.

He knew the answer deep down, really – he'd even told her about his fear of losing a partner that too often manifested in extreme overprotectiveness. She seemed to understand, too, as well as she could for someone who'd never been there. At least, she didn't tend to push too hard when he did pull away, something that made him feel in equal parts grateful and guilty. Grateful, because to have someone who could read him so well and who did and said exactly what he couldn't even admit he needed was something he didn't think he'd ever had in any kind of relationship. But he knew that it was unfair to her to become collateral in the never-ending battle between his instincts – a civilian casualty, as it were, and one that he feared would eventually become too beaten-down to keep returning to the fight. There was a part of him, probably the part that had watched too many teen romances with his sister as a kid, that said that if he really cared for her – always stopping short of anything else even in his mind – he would end the partnership, let her really make a go at finding a relationship without the albatross of his commitment issues around her neck.

He chuckled quietly at that thought. _Commitment issues_ was never a term he'd have thought he'd be using to describe himself, the man who'd gotten engaged at twenty-four after a seven-month relationship. But there was really nothing else to call it, at least not in the traditional romantic playbook. She wanted something defined and real with him, and he was too afraid to give her that. He was _committed_ to her, for sure – as a partner, as a best friend, as a confidante and drinking buddy. But he couldn't take that next step that she'd been carefully trying to nudge him towards for – what, years now? She'd have denied it, but he could never lose the image of her in the locker room on her one-year anniversary on the job. Her _how do I look now?_ had played on repeat in his head for a solid week after that. Even now, after she'd laid out all her feelings in front of him, she'd always left the ball in his court. _I know that you're my partner, and I don't want to do anything to screw that up._ She'd said it so easily, as though really all she'd wanted from that night was to get things off her chest, but he knew that she'd secretly been hoping that he'd finally agree to pursue what they had.

After she'd been shot, as he'd sat there waiting in the hospital fully expecting to hear that she had died, he'd thought about it. He'd been hit with the regret first; what if she were to die and he'd never given them a chance to figure out what was there? What if, God forbid, she died wishing he'd given her more than he had? Then, of course, the morbid voice in his head that had only grown in strength as he'd lost more and more people had convinced him that it was good that they hadn't pursued anything. After all, if she were to die, he would've been there for the last moments of her life. He didn't know how he'd be able to deal with being the person to pull up at the hospital after she was already gone and be stuck wondering for the rest of his life if he'd have been able to change anything if he'd been there.

He sighed and took a long swig from his beer bottle. He knew that alcohol was probably not the best fix for this – if anything, it'd just lower his inhibitions again and put them in yet another position that he'd have to backtrack from. He was glad, then, when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder from behind. Turning, he saw Eddie standing behind him and tried to force the brooding off of his face. She furrowed her brow. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You didn't talk to anyone."

He smiled tightly. "Yeah, I mingled a bit. Didn't want to steal your spotlight."

She narrowed her eyes dubiously. "Okay. You still good for a ride, or was that just a device to get me here?" There seemed to be a challenge in her tone, which he filed away with everything he'd never understand about her.

"No, I'll take you. You want to head out now?"

"As soon as you're ready." She seemed to have retracted into politeness now, which is how he knew he'd pissed her off. Their relationship had passed the point of non-ironic formality about half a second into their first interaction, and now it only manifested when she was angry at him.

After saying some brief goodbyes, they started off down the sidewalk in relative silence, all of the camaraderie of earlier seemingly erased. Jamie was still lost in the spiral of thoughts that'd consumed him at the bar, Eddie casting him tentative glances every so often but choosing not to pry. Once they were about two blocks away from the restaurant, Jamie stopped suddenly. Eddie turned back to face him, casting a confused look at him.

"Eddie, I'm sorry." He surprised himself when he spoke.

She looked up at him with an inscrutable expression on her face. "Sorry for what?"

He sighed. "I know I've been sending mixed signals. And that's not fair to you, because you've been pretty clear on what you want for…a while."

"I don't want to push you into anything you don't want." Her response was quiet, and he knew she was dreading what he would say.

He shook his head. "You're not pushing me into anything. I – I want this too."

She furrowed her brow. "Then why are we drawing this out, Jamie? I mean, if I've learned anything lately, it's that we could basically die at any time." She chuckled self-deprecatingly. "If this," she gestured to the space between them, "is something that we both want, why wait?"

They were questions that he'd asked himself hundreds of times, but to hear her articulate them so boldly was frankly a little bit daunting, especially since the only answer he'd ever been able to come up with would probably make her cut and run. She wasn't backing down, though, continuing to stare up at him with this combination of earnestness and nerves and hope that made him want to say _to hell with it_ and kiss her right then and there. He restrained himself, though, knowing that doing that without a conversation would fix exactly none of their problems. Taking a deep breath to clear his head, he reached for her hand before he formulated a response. She squeezed back immediately, even before knowing what his response was going to be, which filled him with a rush of affection and dare he say it _love_ for her.

"I don't know. Honestly, logically it probably makes sense for us to go for it."

Her eyes widened and a grin began to spread across her face. "Is that the most romantic thing you've ever said?"

He chuckled. "Shut _up_ , I'm trying to think."

She nodded and mimed putting a finger to her lips. "Sorry. I know how hard that can be for you, _Harvard_."

He shook his head amusedly, tugging their joined hands closer to him. "You tend to have that effect on me." He could actually see her force herself not to make a smartass comment, which he appreciated. It was true that just her presence in any kind of off-the-job setting tended to throw off his normally focused thought processes, and her constant derailments of the conversation certainly didn't help. He closed his eyes for a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Eddie, I want this. And I _want_ to – take the plunge, or whatever. But I don't know if I can."

Her face fell imperceptibly, but she kept hold of his hand. "Is it because of the shooting?"

"I don't know? Probably on some level." She nodded. "But I also – I don't want to not ride with you."

"You're thinking about what we're giving up." She wasn't asking a question, just softly alluding back to their dance together months ago.

"Sort of, I guess." He shook his head. "No, actually. It's not that. I rode with Martinez today, and – " He chuckled. "Actually, it sort of sucked today. But like, in the future? I could do that again. I could be a TO. And _you'd_ be a damn good one. I almost feel bad monopolizing you away from some rookie." The corner of her mouth quirked up as he continued. "In my head, I know that we could be okay riding with other people."

"But?"

He dropped his head. "Yeah. But. I don't know what it is – it doesn't even make sense to me."

"You're scared." He looked down at her quizzically. "You feel like if we don't ride together, something bad will happen to me and you won't have been there." She raised her eyebrows at him as though seeking confirmation. His lack of a response didn't deter her. "You think that somehow us riding together will make sure that you're the first to know if anything happens. _Even though_ , as we've seen, shit happens even when we are partnered up. And…if we were to be together, you'd be the first person they'd call anyway."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to process everything she'd just said, before huffing out a laugh. "Guess I can't logic my way out of that one."

She shook her head. "Guess not. And I went to _state_ school, Reagan. How's that make you feel?"

He rolled his eyes to the back of his head before tugging her forward and pulling her into his arms. His next words were muffled in her hair. "You really think we could do this?"

She slipped her head out from under his to look him in the eyes. "I really think we could."

Kissing her was distracting enough that he didn't feel the rain beginning to fall.

* * *

I'm sorry for the long delay on this final chapter! It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Hopefully the long chapter makes up for the wait, I considered splitting this one into two but I couldn't justifiably put off the ending any longer, LOL.

Thank you so much to everyone who has followed and reviewed! I really appreciate all of the feedback and support, and thank you for helping motivate me to complete and share my first longer story. I may try to work on some shorter one-shots and missing scenes in the next couple of weeks (including a possible alternate ending for this story), and if anyone has any prompts or requests I'd be happy to give it a shot.

Thank you all for reading, and please don't hesitate to leave any feedback on this chapter or the story as a whole!


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